The Way Things Were
by MissHikaHaru
Summary: Scientist Jiro Noboru has invented a serum that will change the world; not for better, however, but for worse. The new 'genetic miracle' soon reveals itself as a pandemic, and within the month it spread as far as the gates of Ouran Academy. The Hosts flee together, trying to survive in a world where it is only possible for one of them. Will things ever go back to the way they were?
1. When Things Changed

**Sunday April 2nd 2014, 07:15**

**Mokushiroku Laboratories, below-ground operating theatre**

Jiro Noboru - handsome, charismatic genius, cytologist and celebrated epidemiologist, and of only twenty-eight years of age - allowed himself to bask in the applause with which his entrance was heralded. He could see his father in the front row of seats behind the glass wall which separated the press and various political spectators from the operating theatre, triumphant in his father's pride. He turned his back on the crowd, cameras flashing behind him. He saw the soldiers in their precise line-up alongside the machine, five male and five female, all ten with backs straight and chins up. They gave a swift salute as he approached them. The young doctor smiled; respect was a nice feeling. He almost wished he'd created a super-serum sooner.

"Today is a day we've all been waiting for," the acclaimed doctor announced to those present to witness the new era of their country, his voice projected a hundred times through the microphone in his hand. He could see his reflected repeated in the innumerable lenses of news cameras pointed his way. "The day our forces become the greatest in the world." The applause had subsided, and now the doctor motioned toward the ten men in line. "These brave, brave soldiers are today to become the symbol of a new era, not just for Japan," He clapped a hand on the bare shoulder of a male soldier standing closest to the machine, "but for the world. How, you may ask? Well..."

He strode round the side of the machine, towards a compartment which opened up to a row of hypodermic needles. He picked one out, holding the small phial up with finger and thumb; the violet liquid inside sloshed around like dark wine.

"I have dedicated the past seven years of my life to the development of this serum. Since I was young the exploration of genetics and the inheritance of the dominant alleles has fascinated me. In genetics, dominance is everything. And so I developed a serum - _this_ serum - for complete genetic dominance in every field." There was an enraptured silence from those behind the glass. With a little grin to himself, Jiro replaced the phial back among its companions, sliding the compartment back inside the machine. "I will not bore you with the genetics of it - it's a level too intense for those who have not studied it for so long as I have. The process begins with a series of micro-injections to the major muscles - including the brain - whereby the serum infusion will cause immediate cellar enhancement. The newly modified cells will supply the subjects with superior speed, agility, strength and brainpower prior to the serum. Similar to the spreading of disease within the body, in place of virus or bacteria all that spreads is pure power."

There was a collective intake of breath, reverent with anticipation.

"Mr. Tobikomi, if you're ready," he spoke now to the soldier whom he had clapped on the shoulder. The young man looked at him, awaiting an order. "If you would be so kind as to step up into the machine."

Tobikomi looked down at the machine beside him. It was like some high-tech recliner, with many wires and straps. He wondered whether they were to restrain him. He did as he was bidden, ascending the short steps and accepting a hand to help him inside. He positioned himself, laying at an upwards angle, and Noboru and his assistants in their white lab coats set to tying him down. He could only watch as he was secured to the machine by his ankles and his wrists. Wires were wound around his fingers and toes, and he could feel them buzzing slightly with a light current of electricity. Mechanical arms of sorts were pulled down over his chest and his arms, an item strongly resembling a sieve over his head. He could feel the needles just pricking his skin, not breaking through but all the same rather uncomfortable on contact, cold and unfriendly. They gave him a sense of foreboding, and his mind imagined some kind of genetic mutation to the serum. He hated to imagine what could happen if this went wrong. He turned his eyes towards Noboru, his gloved hand hovering above a pulsating green button.

Upon receiving a thumbs up from one of his assistants, whom he recognised as Cho Atsuko, assuring Tobikomi was prepared, the young doctor retrieved the microphone from his jacket.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, grinning to himself, "Welcome to the New Era."

With this he pushed the button, and immediately Tobikomi began to scream.

* * *

**Monday 3rd April 2014, 11:24**

**Ouran High Scool, Music Room 3**

"Haruhi, come and play already!" the twins whined, throwing an eraser at my head. It bounced off with a dull _thump_, and I rolled my eyes as I looked at Mori, who was sitting next to me. It was break, and we were all hanging out in Music Room 3, as we had club time immediately afterwards until lunch. The twins were playing some sort of game with Honey and Tamaki, whereby one person stood with their back to the other players and they would turn around and try to catch someone moving as they tried to get closer and closer to them. The twins always tried to pull ridiculous poses at the last split-second, so were often out and had to return to the start.

"Shut up, you two, I'm trying to read," I told them, returning my attention to the newspaper in my hands.

"Watcha reading?" they asked, and in an instant they were leaning over the sofa either side of me.

"There's this really interesting article from yesterday," I said, indicating to a picture of eleven people. Ten were extraordinarily muscular, male and female alike, and were very tall. The eleventh was smaller, in a white lab coat and was in front of the others.

"Who's that guy?" Hikaru asked from my right, pointing at the man in the centre.

"Jiro Noboru," Kaoru read the inscription beneath the photo.

"Who the hell's he?" Hikaru asked.

"He's a famous scientist," I said matter-of-factly. "Since this article he's become a billionaire, and he's been nominated for a number of awards - including a new one named after him."

"Never heard of him," they said together.

"_You_ wouldn't have," I muttered. Before they could complain I continued, "He's invented this new serum which enhances all your genetics and makes you into some kind of super-human - they're calling it the Super Serum."

"Creative name," the twins intoned, and I snorted with laughter.

"Well, what would you call it, then?"

"I'd call it the Mori-senpai Mixture," Hikaru said, ruffling a hand through the third-year's already messy black hair, "because he was clearly the first person they tested it on. How else could he get so freakishly big and buff?"

"Shut up," Mori said in his low voice, batting away Hikaru's hand with his own large one.

"Leave him alone, guys," I told them, reaching up and smoothing out the third year's hair before returning to my newspaper.

"Are there any cool side effects?" Kaoru asked, leaning in closer to read the article himself. "Do they start sprouting extra arms or something?"

"Nothing that we know of yet," I said, pushing his head back so it wasn't in the way of my reading. "Only time will tell if there are any serious consequences."

* * *

**Sunday 23rd April 2014, 23:19**

**Mokushiroku Laboratories, Noboru's penthouse apartments**

"More champagne, my dear?" Noboru asked the woman opposite, picking up the sparkling bottle. Cho giggled, dabbing her mouth with the silk napkin.

"After nothing but champagne the past three weeks, I still can't pass it up," she conceded, and Noboru refilled her glass. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this kind of life."

"Oh, I certainly can," the handsome young doctor said, setting the bottle down and taking another bite of lobster. "I've waited all my life for it to be like this. And now I finally have what all my brothers have."

"Did all nine have something like this?" the female asked, sipping lightly on her bubbling champagne. Her lipstick left a red rim around the crystal. He looked at her, smiling a little. Cho Atsuko was one of his assistants, fresh from university at twenty two years old and very very pretty. She had black hair, long and straight and soft, and eyes like stars above the soft pink sunset of her cheeks. In addition to her beauty she was highly intelligent, academically, and had been a vital instrument in the development of his serum - she didn't know this of course. She only thought she'd chipped in a little with her support and encouragement. It was only more helpful to him that she was still young, a girl's naiveté still lingering within her, let alone the fact that she _adored_ him. Innocent and unknowing, she returned his smile. His own smile widened; it was easy enough to see that she was in love with him, and easier still to make use of it; women in love were so very easy to exploit.

"Not quite like this," he replied, reaching a hand across the table and clasping hers. "Because I've got something better." She flushed scarlet, blinking rapidly as she reached again for her drink. He stopped her hand with his other, pulling her to her feet before she could protest; dragging her into his arms he kissed her, crushing his lips to her own. For a moment she was shocked, struggling, but as he kept firm hold of her, pressing her to him, she slipped away with her naivety, falling under his manipulation.

_Whatever keeps her close_, he thought.

* * *

**Monday 24th April 2014, 01:47**

**Mokushiroku Laboratories, Noboru's penthouse apartments**

Noboru lay beside Cho, her slim form pressed against his chest. He could feel the contented way her sleepy breaths rose and fell next to him, his arms wrapped around her naked chest. Her hair was mussed across the pillow, both from sleep and that which had happened before, but still retained its softness against his cheek. Her limps, plump and red-stained - the colour far across her cheeks and down her neck - were curled in a smile as she dreamt of the one she loved, who lay beside her and who did not love her back. At least, did not love her in the way she loved him - while she loved his heart, of which there was little or none to love, he loved her mind.

Not yet sleeping, his mind busy formulating the ways of maintaining his newest resource for power, Noboru sat up, drawing his arms from her as a venus fly trap opens its jaws after devouring its prey - he'd had a lot of fun with that part, too. He got out of bed, pulling on a dressing gown and tying it loosely round the waist, pouring a tumbler of brandy from the decanter on his bedside table. He sauntered over to the open window, pushing aside the drapes that fluttered in the breeze. The sky was bright and awake with stars, brilliant as the coins in his pocket, all revenue from Cho's ignorant assistance. He chuckled under his breath, taking a sip of brandy. It was strong, like his triumph; not only was he richer, now, than all his brothers but he had the key to even greater fortune stuck under his thumb like a butterfly on a board.

_How fitting_, he told himself, _that 'Cho' means 'butterfly'._

There was a noise, a shout, from below. Noboru looked down. Nothing was there, not a bird nor a leaf. Not even a whisper of a wind. The breeze that blew by was soft and silent. He shrugged it off, taking another swig of brandy as he turned away from the window. But then there it was again, louder, and something like running footsteps. He looked out again, but still he saw nothing.

Cho let out a soft noise, like a moan, and she shifted beneath the dark red bed sheet. He saw a twinkle of light as her open eyes reflected the stars they so resembled.

"Jiro..?" she said sleepily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, holding the corner of the sheet across her chest. She looked at him, standing there by the window, and smiled a little. "Jiro, come back to bed - you've got an important interview tomorrow, remember?"

"How good of you to remind me," he said softly, setting down his glass on the windowsill and returning to the bed. He crawled on top of it, over the girl on his hands and knees. He kissed her. "What would I ever do without you? I certainly wouldn't have come this far if it weren't for you." Cho, winding her hands around his neck and smiling up at him, would never have guessed at that time the truth behind these words.

"You're only saying that," she said, pouting like an arrogant school girl that's begging for more compliments. "I couldn't possibly be all that important."

"Oh, no, I'm not," Noboru told her, bending his head closer to hers. "After all, you're a very important girl to me, Cho."

"What - little old me?"

"Little old you."

With a little giggle Cho pulled his head down, closing the gap between them, beginning to kiss him. After a few moments his lips started down her neck, and she shivered. Neither of them heard the footsteps approaching, not until there was a loud, hurried knocking upon the door; Cho and Noboru sat up, quick as frightened rabbits.

"What is it?" Noboru shouted, and Cho cringed a little in his sudden anger. "I'm busy in here!"

"Mr. Noboru, sir," came the apologetic voice through the door. It was a voice etched with fear. "We're having a few issues, sir."

"With _what?_"

"With the serum subjects, sir."

"With the - the _serum subjects?_"

"Yes, sir."

Noboru spared no time in returning Cho's frightened glance. He leapt from the bed, tightening the cord of his dressing gown as he strode to the main door. He pulled it open, ignoring Cho's shriek of discomfort as she hastily covered herself with the bed sheet.

"What happened?" he said sharply, glowering at the men in lab coats outside his door. One had a bloodied lip and was clutching his hand, which sported deep human bite marks which bled very dark blood onto the white carpet. "What could have _possibly _happened?"

"Each week we've run diagnostics, as you told us to," the front man rushed to explain, brandishing a clipboard; Noboru snatched it from him, running his cold blue eyes over its contents. He was met with ill news.

"How are these numbers even possible?" he asked, almost angrily. "How can a person have a heart rate of nine hundred beats per minute? How can they _all_ have that?"

"Not all, sir," another man said, and Noboru shot him a look of acid, "Not the women - their levels remain fine, in every quarter, as they should be from our predictions."

"Every week we tested them in their fitness levels," the first spoke again, "And every week their levels continued to rise - we ran the diagnostics for brain activity and we couldn't see anything, the change was too fast. Each week it's gotten more intense, and we've noticed they're also less capable of the mundane activities - writing and speaking and such. You know how after every test we ask them to describe their muscle fatigue, or what they think about the programme?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, as of yesterday morning's programme they didn't seem able to speak. They didn't eat or drink the whole day, and they haven't for the past three days either - not from what we've seen. The men did nothing; they walked around, bumping into things and mumbling, and following scientists and assistants everywhere until reaching the point where they have to be restrained and removed to their rooms. They've become more and more violent towards others, even having attacked and bitten Aoi tonight as we went to check on them - they've been making noise all night."

Noboru rounded on Cho.

"Did you know about this?" he asked her, voice like a growl. "Did you know about all that's been happening down there?" For a moment she was too overwhelmed to speak. "Did you know about - "

"Yes," she blurted out, shrinking back against the bedstead; his face was livid, on fire. "I didn't think it was anything to worry about, so I - "

"You didn't think it was anything to worry about!?" he shouted, hurling the clipboard at her. She shrieked, rolling off the bed and crumpling to the floor to avoid being hit. "You didn't think that _nine __**hundred**_ beats per minute was anything to worry about!?"

"I never saw the stats!" she cried, pulling the sheet around her like a robe and holding it at the top to keep it from falling as she approached him. "I - I'm only an assistant - and I've spent nearly all my time with you because I'm _your_ assistant! I've only been down to diagnostics twice in the three weeks!" She seized his hand with hers, tearful, but he pulled it away. He looked at her as if in disgust.

"Sir," Aoi cut in, and Noboru turned his eyes on him. He was still holding to his bleeding hand. "The human body is completely incompatible with the serum, at an absolute incapacity to handle it. We've come to the conclusion that mental and physical over-exhaustion and stimulation has triggered a mental decay - perhaps even a physical decay - which started out slow, but has sped up exponentially within the weeks after its injection. Sir, the serum was just too powerful - even one dose would have been too much."

"Remind me how much was in one dose?" Noboru said.

"Five millilitres, sir."

"And how large was the dosage we supplied?"

There was a pause.

"One... one hundred millilitres, sir."

Cho let out a horrified gasp, clapping her free hand over her mouth.

"God help them..." Noboru whispered.

"God help us all, sir," Aoi interceded in a low voice.

"Help us all?" Cho asked, voice barely a breath. "What do you mean by that?" Aoi looked down at his hand, and all gaze was drawn to it. Now that Noboru looked at it properly, he saw that what leeched from it was not blood - it truly was too dark for that. It was purple. "Is that...?"

"The serum," he affirmed. "We've all theorised that bites from the affected individuals can place copies of it into the bloodstream of the bitten. We don't know if it will affect women the same way, but there's no taking chances. Anyone who's bitten is a threat." Noboru's face was pale, and he took a few steps back from the men in his doorway. "You're a epidemiologist - you know what you've created. You know what you've done." Aoi's eyes were cold as he looked at the young doctor, who in his fear looked even younger - a boy who had seen a very large spider for the first time.

"Is that why you came?" he asked, trying to keep the quiver from his voice. "To tell me that I doomed us all? What good will that do?"

"It will do very much good, indeed," the second man said. "The soldiers have all escaped." What little colour was left in the young man's face drained, leaving him white as a ghost. "We came here to warn you, so that you could escape too. And we need you alive. Knowing you doomed Japan - perhaps the world - may give you the incentive to make an antidote - I trust you are capable of that." Noboru's eyes flashed to Cho; now he needed her closer than ever, by any means necessary.

He turned his attention back to the men.

"Thank you, gentlemen," he said shortly. "Could you please call for my helicopter?" With stiff nods they all turned and left, assigning themselves to the end - it was too late for one of them, already. The door closed behind them. There was a moment of silence. "Get your clothes on, Atsuko," Noboru instructed, voice cold and distant. Cho, too frightened to do anything than might anger him, did as she was bidden, running to the bedroom and retrieving her dress from the floor. He got dressed himself, pulling on a suit as quickly as he could. He paused in doing up his belt as he heard sirens beginning to wail on the floors below, and shouts from the grounds. Cho spared a moment to look out the window, and saw fire dancing amid the mad flashing of security spotlights that spun everywhere in mad confusion.

"Jiro?" she called, but her voice was almost drowned by the sound of helicopter blades spinning overhead. Noboru turned his head up to the ceiling, snatching up his messenger bag from a chair and heading straight for a painting on the wall. He ripped its frame from the hanging, revealing a deadbolt safe behind it. Feverishly he typed in the code, and it unsealed with a quiet _hiss, _revealing many stacks of notes piled high within. Opening his bag he upended it, spilling documents and papers and pens from it with an edge of madness. He began stuffing in as many notes as would fit, until the bag would no longer close.

"Come on!" he said, seizing her arm in a rough grip and tugging her towards the door. In the corridor he turned left, towards a flight of stairs which led out to the landing pad. The noise was deafening, not just because of the helicopter but because of the gunfire. They could hear it even from the grounds, loud and clear and frightening. The helicopter door was thrown wide open, and Noboru pushed Cho inside before hauling himself up too. The door slammed after him, closed by a man armed with a very heavy gun. Cho was being strapped into a seat and a headset being placed over her ears to quieten the noise.

"Where to?" the pilot's voice sounded in Noboru's ear as he fitted his own headset.

"Somewhere... somewhere far away - anywhere that's safe."

"There is nowhere safe," Cho said, and Noboru looked round to see her weeping. "Not anymore."


	2. The Importance of Party Planning

**Monday 24th April 2014, 08:32**

**Ouran High Shool, Class 1A**

"Haaaaruhiiiii~" Tamaki trilled, his head sliding into view from around the side of the doorway, his hands holding to the wooden panelling as if he were floating on his side; a few people in our homeroom looked round, whispering and giggling. Primarily it was girls who responded, many first years being regulars to his Hosting table - a couple of boys rolled their eyes, both at him and at me, as though it were my fault the eccentric blonde had seen fit to scamper away from his own homeroom and pester me. "Guess what it is next weeeeeek~" The twins, from their seats on either side of me, looked up in unison.

"What - don't we get a greeting, too?" they asked indignantly, pouting childishly as Tamaki entered the room with his usual air of perkiness and exuberance.

"Clearly not," I answered them, returning my attention to unpacking my bag. "Senpai, don't you have registration or some club planning session with Kyoya-senpai?" The blonde's face fell comically, as it always did (the big drama king...)

"But neither one of those things is even _half _as exciting as what's happening next week, my dear daughter...!" he said sullenly, trying to appeal to my non-existent-non-conformist side or else the side of me that had the will power to go along with his eccentricities. Deciding it would be more time (and money) efficient to hear him out in order for him to get back to his own bloody homeroom, and the bespectacled boy with black hair who was expecting him for a talk about funding (for which he would no doubt add a thousand yen to my debt for each second lost) I heeded his whim.

"Alright, then, senpai," I said in a chipper voice, expertly feigning curiosity - having been in the Host Club this long I'd picked up a number of tricks from Tamaki and the twins. "Tell me, please - what's going on next week?"

Immediately he seemed to radiate sparks from his great surge of enthusiasm.

"Oh, my, Haruhi, how clever you are!" he marvelled, taking me by the hands and pulling me to my feet. "I simply knew you would catch on that there was something exciting going on!"

"Rather difficult not to when you're shouting about it across a classroom..." the twins muttered unanimously. Tamaki, however, absorbed in his own personal bubble of glowing eagerness, had failed to hear their exchange and was instead beaming jubilantly at me across the desk as though I were God's gift to the world (which was surprising, in consideration of the fact that he believed _himself_ to be that heavenly gift).

"But what _is _going on?" I asked, still none the wiser for all this build-up. Rather than telling me, personally, he told the whole room.

"Next week, for the first time, the Ouran Host Club will be sponsoring the annual May Day festivities!" he called, thrusting his hands high in the air like some self-possessed circus performer. There was silence for a moment as everyone looked around at each other, then there was a humble smattering of applause (to which Tamaki bowed graciously) and the talk once again swelled.

"Congratulations!"

"It's such an honour to host the May Day Festival! I'm really happy for you lot."

"I'm sure you'll do so much better than the Newspaper Club did last year - what even _was_ that?"

"What are you planning, Tamaki-senpai?" a girl asked excitedly, appearing at his elbow like an adoring puppy.

"Well, I haven't officially consulted the rest of the club yet," he said without a care, and I knew full well how very much he _should _care - whatever he was planning it was sure to be the most extravagant thing Ouran had ever seen, and Kyoya was going to snap right into his Shadow King mode of Ultimate Death and Darkness the moment he heard what the Host Club King had it store. They'd be at it hammer and tong, with Tamaki whining in his Corner of Woe and Kyoya typing away furiously at his calculator; it happened so often, you'd think I'd be used to it, but I guess there's no real way to fully wrap your head around pure idiocy and keep it there. "But, considering how the first day of May coincides with a full moon, I thought it would be positively marvellous if we could have a school dance - a ball, if you will."

There was a collective intake of breath from a number of girls who had come over and surrounded him, before they all started squealing with delight; the twins and I exchanged glances as I sat down.

"Kyoya-senpai is _not _going to like this," Hikaru said from my right.

"Not one little bit," Kaoru said from my left.

"Oh, nonsense!" Tamaki said brightly, playfully batting away the girls around him as he headed jauntily towards to door. "Kyoya's my best friend and club manager, I'm sure he'll have great fun getting in revenue from the ticket prices."

"Don't be so sure that he's going to say 'yes', Tamaki-senpai," I told him in a warning voice.

"Oh, Haruhi," Tamaki winked as he reached the door, propping it open with his foot, "You underestimate my charm - there's no chance at all that he'll say 'no'."

* * *

**Monday 24th April 2014, 11:07**

**OuranHigh School, Music Room 3**

"No."

"But - "

"_No._"

"_But _\- "

"**_No._**"

Tamaki was whining in the corner (as was to be expected) while Kyoya typed away at his compact black calculator (as was to be expected). Having been in the club room for I think a record of one and a half minutes, break having started at five past eleven, Tamaki and Kyoya were battling it out as hard as they ever did with a seemingly never-ending exchange of the same monosyllabic retort, set to the accompaniment of Honey's rhythmic cake-munching.

"Tamaki, just drop it," I called from over the top of my book, after a particularly pitiable moan sounded from his corner along with a rustling of fabric and a sort of thump as the blonde threw himself upon the floor in a fit of dejection. "Kyoya-senpai is right - a ball is far too extravagant for the kind of funds we get, despite the amazing job he does with all the records and such."

"Thank you, Haruhi," Kyoya said with a self-satisfied sort of nod towards me in acknowledgment of his superiority in the matter. "That's a hundred yen off your debt, for a compliment like that."

"Will I get even more off if I keep reminding you of your brilliance?" I asked teasingly, though deep down I was more than just a tiny bit hopeful. Kyoya laughed, one that was neither fake nor wholly genuine; beside me, Mori looked up from his book of kendo techniques and smiled fractionally at me. I returned it with a little wink.

"Oh, honestly," the bespectacled boy tutted, flipping open his little black notebook and making a number of scribbles in his illegible doctor's handwriting, "As if I need reminding." I rolled my eyes, reverting my attention to the book in my hands. No sooner had I read two sentences than there came another, even more pathetic, wail from Tamaki. Kyoya sighed and snapped his book shut. "However, if you can think of a way to end this blithering idiot's suffering in a way that does not inconvenience the club's funds, I'll knock a few thousand from the current sum."

At this I immediately lost interest in my book, dropping it hurriedly onto the coffee table before us and putting a hand to my mouth in thought; Mori chuckled lightly from my right.

"Earlier this morning Tamaki said something about charging for tickets," I said, frowning a little at nothing in particular.

"Yes, but that's a given for the Festival," Kyoya cut across me, "It's a fund-raising event for the whole school, so ticket sales are the bare minimum - honestly, Haruhi, I expected more from you than just ticket selling."

"Since the Host Club was chosen to host is this year," I continued over him, refusing his condescension, "We could organise it like a Hosting session, but bigger." I looked over my shoulder to see Kyoya standing behind the sofa. His black book was open again, pen poised and ready in hand. I didn't need his invitation to continue; it was obvious I'd sparked his interest with the mention of expanding everything (including profits) that we did on a regular basis. "But, to be realistic," I said, standing up and folding my arms to avoid having to look behind me to talk to him, "With the idea Tamaki has in mind for a ball doing what we would usually do, like taking groups of people to different areas and entertaining them, is not only rather antisocial for an even such as this but also very segregating because it would only be girls who would come and cut revenue in half."

"Then what would we do?" Kyoya inquired, eyes fixated upon the scribbling of his pen. I allowed him a few moments to finish what he was writing before continuing. During this time Tamaki had managed to drag himself over, as well as the twins who had finally seen fit to arrive on time before club hours for once.

"Well," I said, putting my hands on my hips to address them all, "In fairs and such in the town centre you get things like photo booths and food stalls and artisan tables with lots of things to buy." Being rich, as they were, they were mostly fascinated by the kinds of things commoners did for entertainment - Tamaki had virtually squealed with glee at the mention of photo booths. Kyoya, however, was intrigued only by the idea that many students attending Ouran would never have experienced something such as a commoner's fair.

"Interesting," he said, pushing the glasses further up his thin nose so the light glinted off them demonically. "I'm sure Tamaki would greatly enjoy investing in a photo booth."

"I'm sure he would," the twins said, exchanging knowledgeable glances.

"What's more," I carried on, "We can cut the cost of hiring a photographer by asking the photography club to help us out - after all, it's not wholly down to one club to organise _everything_. It's a school-wide thing. Mori-senpai?" I said, looking round at him. Immediately he looked up at me, putting away his book. "You're friends with the president of the photography club, aren't you?"

"Yeah, she's in our class!" Honey piped up, looking up from his tray of cakes and beaming up me. "You're so clever to think of this, Haru-chan!" I smiled at him. He was so endearing, sometimes.

"Would you two be able to ask her for us?" I asked.

"Yeah~!"

"Ah," Mori nodded, and my smile widened. I bowed my head to him in thanks.

"Thank you so much, Mori-senpai, Honey-senpai."

"No problem," the tall third year said as I turned back to face the others. Kyoya was still feverishly writing in his notebook, hurriedly circling things and putting bullet points, Tamaki watched avidly over his shoulder.

"What did you mean by artisan tables, Haruhi?" the twins asked with interest, looking at me with expectancy.

"Well..." I paused, folding my arms and putting one hand to my mouth. "Usually it's people trying to sell little trinkets that they've made like necklaces and scarves - which I think would be nice for something like a ball, but I suppose all the girls are already going to be wearing jewellery when they arrive - so I was kind of thinking we could sell corsages to the boys to give to their dates?"

"The flower arranging club would be good for that," Hikaru said.

"And the art club," Kaoru added. I nodded, pleased that so far my ideas were going down really rather well. Kyoya looked up from his note taking.

"Presidents of both clubs are in our class," he said. "We can find out how much a corsage would cost to make and add twenty percent on to the selling price - that should make a good profit, should they prove popular. Some good ideas you have here, Haruhi. I'm quite impressed; that'll be another thousand off your debt. Having someone like you is a real benefit to the Host Club." He looked at me, flashing a smile. For once, I think his smile is actually real.

"Haruhi! Oh, my clever little daughter!"

Before Tamaki could hug me and bowl me onto the floor, I sat down. Despite this, Tamaki still managed to knock me over as he fell on me over the top of the sofa: I was thrown sideways into Mori, who caught me hastily and held me upright so I didn't break my neck; Tamaki, however, got a faceful of table.

* * *

**Monday 24th April 2014, 17:35**

**Fuijoka Residence**

"I'm home!" I called as I closed the front door behind me, taking off my school shoes and slipping my feet into the house slippers. I was able to hear dad humming from the kitchen along with the sounds and smells of chicken stir fry sizzling in a pan.

"Welcome home, Honeybuns!" he said loudly, and I rolled my eyes despite smiling as I walked to my room. "Do you want to watch America's Next Top Model with me after dinner, tonight?"

"No thanks, dad," I replied, dropping my bag on the bed and rummaging through it for my notepad.

"What!?" I heard his hurried footsteps, and then his head popped round the doorframe. "Don't you try and hide it, young lady, I know it's your guilty pleasure - besides, everything else is so dull! Do you honestly think that I'd want to watch the news? About the only 'breaking news' they're capable of is the raise in gas prices!" I sighed, turning to look at him with a smile. He was doing the puppy dog pout he thinks works on me.

"Dad, that look may have worked on mom but it sure as sugar won't work with me," I told him, shirking off my blazer and walking over to the door with it slung over my arm.

"But you _love_ ANTM~!" he pleaded, pout intensifying. "_And _it's the season finale tonight - don't you want to find out who won!?"

"As much as I enjoy it from time to time," I said firmly, hooking up the blazer on the loop of the door, "I'm super busy right now - I have all sorts of club stuff to plan and... yeah."

"Oooh, club stuff!" he exclaimed, pushing himself into the room and sitting down with a soft _thwump _upon my mattress. He drew up his legs and crossesd them beneath him like a girl at a sleepover. "Tell me all about it!"

"_Dad,_" I groan, folding my arms and tapping my finger warningly.

"What, is it super top secret?" he asked, winking one of those violently powdered eyes of his. "No wonder my dear Kyoya-kun hasn't confided in me, yet."

"Well, it's not especially secret, so I guess I can tell you." I paused. "We're planning this massive event for next week, and I have lots to do with it."

"Did that no good Suoh boy dump all the work on you?" he questioned suspiciously, narrowing his false-lashed eyes and folding his arms. "I'll bet anything that he did - and don't you cover for him just because he's pretty!"

"No, dad," I said, momentarily rolling my eyes skyward, "Tamaki-senpai hasn't done anything of the sort - rather, he's trying to do it all himself because he thinks he can do it the best."

"Of course he does..."

"That's why I'm planning on getting it done before him, so it gets done properly."

Dad laughed and clapped his hands in his usual girlish manner.

"So, what is this big event?" he carried on, pressing for more juicy details - I keep telling him he should work for a gossip magazine, but he says he's not interested in fickle things like tittle-tattle and scandals; that was a lie if I ever did see one.

"It's the May Day Festival."

"Oh, how exciting!"

"And this year we're going to make it a school dance - you know, a ball."

At this his face lit up with such a euphoric burst of enthusiasm it almost rivalled that of Tamaki's. He grabbed my hands like an excitable schoolgirl and bounced up and down on the bed, to the point where I wondered whether the bedsprings might snap.

"You're going, aren't you!?" he asked animatedly, and for a moment I'm bewildered.

"Yes, of course I'm - "

"I have the most perfect dress for you!" he cried, leaping from the bed and dragging me out of the room and across the hall. I don't often go into dad's room, less and less frequently as the years increase from the day mom passed away. I don't really have reason to go in. Besides, it feels like an invasion - this room was half his and half hers. I'm not a part of it. It was for them, and for them only.

Dad let go of my hand and throws open the wardrobe, riffling through the numerous ruffles and black leather (of which there are far too many items) until he found a plain white dress with red roses stitched into the hems, and a white ribbon lacing the waistline. It's simple but sweet.

He put the hanger over my head so he can see where the dress would fall on me. It went down to midway between my knees and my ankles. I didn't say anything, knowing that there wasn't any universe in which I would be able to wear this to the dance - I would be going as a Host, after all. But the way dad looked at the dress, and the way he looked at me... it broke my heart. There was sadness behind the paternal glow in his eyes. He sighed, clasping his hands together.

"You look just like your mother," he said quietly, and I opened my mouth to reply. I couldn't say anything, so I closed it again and turned my head down. Neither of us spoke for a while, before dad stroked my cheek lightly. I looked up. Then he sniffed the air, and suddenly looked more alert. "I'm burning the chicken!" he screeched, and with that he tore from the room. I stared after the door, hearing him swearing under his breath, but then I looked round to the floor length mirror in the door of the wardrobe. I lifted up a hand and touched my reflection.

I did look like her.

I clenched my fist against the glass, and turned my eyes downward. For a moment I didn't move. Then I reached up and carefully lifted the dress over my head, slotting it back on the clothes rack and shutting the door. I turned to leave, but saw the state of his bed. Honestly, was it rocket science to fix up a blanket once in a while? I picked it up and shook it out, about to lay it back down and straighten it when I heard a sort of clatter. I crawled on top of the mattress and looked over the other side.

A CD case had fallen off. I reached down and picked it up. It was one of mom's. I know because the woman on the front is Western (American, I think). I remembered mom had an obsessed with Western music, especially jazz. My English isn't the best, but I could read the name of the singer - Anita Marie.

I opened it up to see if the CD itself is damaged, but it's fine. I looked around for a place to put it, but there wasn't really anywhere - dad was much more disorganised than me, and his assortment of make-up and wigs littered every surface. Deciding the CD would be generally much safer with me, I returned to my room across the hall. I sat down on the bed and put it on my bedside table. I was about to return to looking for my notepad when I heard my phone go off with a text alert.

I got up again and went over to my blazer on the back of the door, stuffing my hand in the right pocket and pulling out the bright red phone the twins had given me. I flipped up the screen as I walked back to the bed, crossing my legs and leaning back against the wall.

**~1 NEW MESSAGE~**

**from: Mori-senpai :-)**

I smiled a little, wondering why he was texting me. Not that I was complaining, or that we didn't text often, but I knew that he had kendo practice on Monday nights. Shrugging, I pressed the button to open it.

**_'17:38 from Mori-senpai :-)  
_**

_Hello, Haruhi_

_I just spoke to Misaki from the photography club, and they are set to help us with the fair. Hope this helps.'_

For a moment I was so pleased I didn't know what to say in return.

**_'17:39 from [ME]  
_**

_Thank you so much :)_

_But aren't you supposed to be in the middle of kendo right now?'_

He replied almost immediately.

**_'17:39 from Mori-senpai :-)  
_**

_I figured this was more important.'_


	3. Fear finds Fault with Faith

**Tuesday 25th April 2014, 07:18**

**Fujioka Residence**

"Morning, sleepyhead!" dad said as I emerged from my room, staggering about like a sleep-deprived zombie with the tie almost falling from my neck. I yawned as I entered the kitchen, where dad was thumbing through the pages of a bright pink gossip magazine. "There's coffee in the pot," he said, looking up at me with a wan smile, "Looks as though you're in need of it." He winked but I didn't respond in any way other than to dump my bag as I dragged myself over to the coffee pot and fumbled around the cupboard for a mug. "I hope you weren't working yourself too hard, last night just because that Suoh boy is an incompetent prat."

I chuckled lightly as I watched the brown liquid frothing as I poured it in my mug - I loved hearing dad complain about Tamaki. Not that I didn't like Tamaki, to be honest I really enjoyed his company (granted that he wasn't trying to flirt with me or else press himself upon me as a paternal figure) it was just funny to hear what kind of insults dad had to come up with.

"No, it wasn't anything like that," I assured him, turning to put my coffee in the microwave. "I actually finished surprisingly quickly - despite a couple of distractions."

"Oh, yes?" dad asked, squeezing in a large mouthful of jam-dripping toast. "Wha' ki' o' di'ra'un?" he garbled through the toast as he chewed.

"I got a text from Mori-senpai," I replied, dipping down to the small fridge built into the counter and fishing out the small bottle of milk; with my back to him, I didn't see dad raise his eyebrows knowingly. I smiled a little, staring at nothing in particular. The microwave beeped, and I pressed the button to open the little plastic door; it popped open and I pulled out the slightly heated mug, setting it down and pouring in a good deal of milk and stirred. "He did me a massive favour, and all I'd planned to do was thank him but then it all got blown out of control and the next thing I know I was texting him at nearly one o'clock!" I took a hearty swig. "Thank God for coffee..."

"Well, so long as you weren't texting that facetious goldilocks, you can stay up 'til dawn for all I care," dad said as I sat down in my seat opposite him, taking a slice of toast from his plate. He doesn't complain - rather, he goes off on a mini rant about all the things wrong with Tamaki Suoh (which, according to him, there are many). It was at times like this, when dad was off on a spree with things to say about 'that twinkly-eyed twit', that I wondered what mom would have thought of Tamaki - and the others, come to think of it. I'm sure she'd be civil enough with Kyoya and would find Tamaki and the twins a laugh, I should think; Honey would be her favourite, most definitely - shed been a great fan of pink. She would have liked Mori, too, because (from what I've heard from him and seen in old picture books) dad had used to be quite a strong, silent guy when he was younger, but after meeting mom in university he'd opened up exponentially over time until he'd become the flamboyant Tamaki-like person he was today.

I smiled, tracing a finger around the brim of my mug, thinking of him; he'd be talkative today, that was for sure - staying up until one in the morning would make anybody tired, and when Mori was tired he was one of the most sociable people I knew - even Tamaki was a contender. I liked Mori when he was sociable - it was less daunting to talk to him, and I liked talking to him because he always seemed to have something interesting on his mind - no matter how ineffectual or random. There wasn't a club meeting until tomorrow, but I supposed I would see him around and in the dining hall.

I took a bite of the toast I'd nicked, casting my eyes down at the magazine in front of dad; even though it was upside down I could see an article about America's Next Top Model. I swallowed, wiping my mouth my the beck of my hand.

"So, who won last night?" I asked, nodding towards it; this snapped dad from his rant on Tamaki.

"Jourdan!" he cried, seeming mortally offended that I could not have expected this. I grinned at him over the top of my mug before taking another sip - I'd wanted Jourdan to win, almost from the beginning, but dad had practically worshipped her. I was almost certain he would convert her into the focal point of some new religion he'd founded. "_Obviously_."

We spent the next ten minutes or so chatting about ANTM between bites of toast and a few swigs of coffee and orange juice, as well as the upcoming May Day Festival. I told him about my ideas and he went off in jubilation that I was finally becoming more girly, what with wanting corsages and texting boys and such. I just smiled and nodded along, not exactly wanting to tell him that I'd be going as a boy when he was getting so worked up about it.

"Am I allowed to come, Haruhi?" he asked excitedly, leaning towards me over the table. There was a kind of hysteria in his eyes. I wasn't sure of how to reply, especially considering Kyoya's lust for income. Tickets wouldn't be cheap, and I knew it.

"I'll see if I can get Kyoya to give you a discount," I told him, this being my way of telling him we couldn't exactly afford it. But he's so animated, I couldn't bring myself to tell him a flat-out 'no'. Deciding my hope in the matter would seem more authentic, I whipped out my phone and hastily sent Kyoya a text message.

'**07:33 from [ME]**

_Good morning, Kyoya-senpai_

_Dad's wondering about tickets to the festival, though I suppose we'll discuss them tomorrow during club meeting anyway. See you at school :)_

_Haruhi_'

As was normal with the ever-punctual Ootori boy, he replied within minutes.

'**_07:35 from Kyoya_**

_Good morning to you, and to Ranka-san_

_Please tell her that, as a parent of a club member and close acquaintance of mine, I will issue them with a free ticket that I will give to you today. I look forward to hearing the new ideas you pooled together last night._

_Kyoya_'

I smiled, passing the phone across the table to dad; it took him a moment to accept it because he had to wipe his jam-sticky hands on something but was reluctant to tarnish his lacy dressing gown. He held the flip phone delicately between his lacquered fingers, eyes quickly scanning the message on-screen. He looked at me like a small puppy that had just been presented with a very large marrow bone indeed, which I suppose he had - for people with his kind of income, free invitation to a party held by the country's most celebrated academy was as big a bone as this little pup would ever be likely to get.

He sighed contentedly, clasping the phone tight in his hands and sinking down in his chair as if he might melt into it in his happiness. I decided to let him bask in the glory of his free invite, reaching across the table for the magazine and skimming through the article about ANTM. When I finished reading Jourdan's interview about how incredibly happy she was to have won, I flicked to the next page and saw what was 'in' right now; mostly khaki, military-esque designs, with big dumb combat boots with perfectly impractical heels, a few photo-shopped models posing sensually with shotguns and firing at hot male models made up to look like zombies.

Closing the magazine, I looked up at the microwave to see what time it was. Soon enough I might miss the bus. Eyes widening, I leapt up, stuffed a half-eaten piece of jammy toast in my mouth and scooped up my bag from the floor.

"See you later!" I said incoherently through my mouthful of bread, pulling on my school shoes.

"Wait!" dad called after me, brandishing the bright red mobile in my direction, "Don't forget your - " But I'd already pulled open the door and leapt out into the early morning sunlight, "...phone... ah, well..." He sank back down into his seat, folding his legs like some catty receptionist as he made to return to his magazine. Mere moments after depositing the mobile next to his coffee mug, it buzzed with the message tone. He flipped up the phone's lid, and saw it was from a certain third year.

'**_07:41 from Mori-senpai :-)_**

_Hey, Haruhi_

_I arranged to talk with Misaki before morning homeroom, so I'm catching the train to school today. Do you want to meet at the station?_

_Takashi'_

"Honestly," Ranka smiled, eyes settling upon the little pixel image of the boy with black hair, "The world will have ended before these two figure out they're interested in each other." He chuckled to himself. "But... if I gave them a little push...?"

He began to type.

'**_07:42 from [ME]_**

_I'd love to._

_See you there :)_'

He added a kiss for good measure.

* * *

**Tuesday 25th April 2014, 07:48**

**Koiwazurai Station**

As I approached the station entrance, I saw Mori leaning against a pillar next to the vending machine and smiling as he typed out a message on his phone. I wondered who he could be texting. Rather, more importantly, I wondered why he was here - normally he walked to school, so I was more than a little confused.

"Mori-senpai?" I called as I walked up the front steps, and he looked up. He was still smiling.

"Good morning, Haruhi," he replied as I came closer, tapping what must have been 'Send Message' before putting his phone away. "How are you? Not too tired, I hope? I'm exhausted."

"I suppose you should be," I said, smiling fractionally before bowing my head in apology. "Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, and I bent even lower.

"Sorry I kept you up so late," I explained guiltily, "It's bad for an athlete not to get enough sleep - you should have told me to shut up at ten, let alone one in the morning!" He almost laughed.

"I won't blame you for anything," he replied, "And I certainly won't hear you apologise for nothing. In fact, I think we should talk more often." I straightened up, looking at him curiously. "I enjoy talking with you, Haruhi."

I blushed, but before I could say anything in return the PA system chimed with its singsong voice.

"The train now approaching Platform One is the seven-fifty-one for Miryoku Station; please mind the gap between the train and the platform edge."

"This is us, then," I told him, reaffirming the hold of my bag across my shoulder as myself and Mori made toward the slowed train. We stood together at the back of the small crowd in front of the still-closed doors, which beeped a number of times.

"The doors will now open; please mind the gap between the train and the - "

"Platform edge," I said irritably, "We know, we know - hurry up and open, we have a school to get to." As if by my command - the doors hissed and unsealed, sliding open like metal venus fly traps to the accompaniment of Mori's suppressed laughter. I stepped inside the train and he shadowed me, the two of us standing side by side. He was still chuckling under his breath as I took hold of one of the slings hanging from the ceiling. I looked up at him, not sure whether to frown or smile. I chose the latter; I liked his laugh - I didn't hear it very often, so when I did it seemed like an occasion to be smiling upon.

He seemed like he would have stopped laughing, but then he looked properly at my face for the first time and started laughing even more.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"You've got jam on your chin," he told me, and I concealed a blush as I let go of the ceiling sling and made to roughly wipe it off.

"Better?"

"You missed," he said, and I rolled my eyes and folded my arms to the sound of the PA system announcing the closing of the doors.

"Whatever..."

"I'll get it, don't worry."

I looked irritably away, gaze catching on an inviting advert for sushi, when I felt his hand clasp lightly around my chin. Looking back at him in surprise, he reached up his other hand and wiped gently at a spot near my mouth, his thumb slowly stroking across my lips.

"Gone," he said simply, letting go of me and turning away as he linked his hand through a ceiling sling.

"Thanks," I mumbled, rubbing at my face with my wrist in case he was joking and there was still something there. It was then that the train decided to lurch into motion, throwing me sideways into him - that's what you get for not holding on to something...

"Sorry," I muttered, prising myself away from him and brushing down my blazer. "Sorry." I took an awkward step or two away from him, taking firm hold of another sling and fighting to maintain my blush of embarrassment.

"You okay?" he asked, looking at me with a slight frown.

"Yeah. Fine. Sorry."

* * *

**Tuesday 25th April 2014, 08:13**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"Jiro, please... I'm tired..." Cho pleaded in a quiet voice, squinting hard at the acid green liquid in the phial she was set to distilling. Noboru did not reply, glowering at the algorithm he was trying to reproduce from memory upon the enormous chalkboard that spanned the entire East wall. He paid no kindness to her wish to sleep nor that of the three other scientists they had rescued with the helicopter, despite his protests to save themselves and get out of there while they still could.

"Shut up!" he barked without looking round, throwing a nub of chalk her way; she flinched as it bounced off her, casting a despairing look at her fellows. None of them, including her dear Jiro, had slept in over twenty-six hours. And this was a job they needed to be alert and alive to complete. After all, creating the serum itself had taken years of perfecting - and had needed many more, considering its utter destruction of the human form - but now they were working to create an antidote, an antiserum; they would have to recreate the serum, which mightn't seem so hard as they had done so before but the chemical equations were missing from Noboru's head in his fear; they had to stay alive long enough for him to overcome his childishness, for weren't they all afraid? Weren't they all holding it together, no matter how brittle the ties? Not only for that long did they have to survive, but then for longer still while they worked backwards to create the antiserum. How long would that take? Months? Years? The serum on its own had taken closer to a decade than not. So little was certain. They did not even know if they had the rest of the day to live, or even the hour - who could say for sure they could make it to the end of such an arduous process?

None but God.

And Cho was no longer sure whether or not He existed.


	4. Manipulation and Normality

**Tuesday 25th April 2014, 17:28**

**Koiwazurai Station**

It had been a long enough day for me, made longer by my lack of sleep the previous night. But it had been a fun day, too; on the train to school, and on the way back just now, I'd had some nice conversations with Mori, and at school itself the twins and Tamaki hadn't tried to flirt with me once. Kyoya had sought me out to give me dad's ticket, sparking a ten minute conversation that didn't touch on the subject of money at all. It seemed like a miracle.

Although it was rather irritating because I'd left my phone at home, and I'd meant to text around lunch what dad wanted for supper because he had work today and he'd be too tired to cook. I supposed I would just do something simple like pork or ramen, since they're an easy favourite of his - I had thought about swinging by the supermarket to surprise him by picking up something sweet for dessert, and was going to act upon it after saying goodbye to Mori as we left the station, but dad was there waiting for me when we got off the train.

"Hey, dad," I called, and he came forward to meet me with his raised a hand in greeting; I noticed it was shoddily bandaged. "What happened?" I asked as I got closer, taking hold of it and bringing it up to my eyes. It wasn't bleeding or anything, so it couldn't have been much more than a scratch; trust dad to put an enormous bandage on a papercut, like this most likely was.

"Are you alright, Ranka-san?" Mori asked, concerned.

"Yes, yes!" he replied airily, pulling his hand from my grasp and flicking it through his long red hair. He smiled appreciatively up at the good looking third year, "How nice of you to ask, Takashi-kun!" He giggled like a school girl, bumping playfully into Mori's side. "Just some silly drunk at the bar - thought it would be funny to try and bite me, what a weirdo~!"

"They bit you?" the tall boy repeated, frowning down at me. Dad tittered once more, not having seen his reproving look.

"Like I said," he sighed, "Drunk as a monk! But they didn't really bite me, he was restrained and thrown out before he could get too carried away - it was just a graze against the teeth, that's all. I'll be fine."

"I think you ought to get a drinking limit or something for your bar, Ranka-san."

"Oh, Takashi-kun~!" dad said delightedly, gripping animatedly to Mori's left arm and gazing up at him. "How concerned you are for me, you sweetiepie~"

"Dad," I intoned, prising him away from the third year beside me, "Can you please _not _go around flirting with my friends?"

"Why, Haruhi, acting so stern all of a sudden!" he tittered, poking my cheek teasingly, "Are you jealous?"

"No," I said flatly, "Why on earth would I be?"

Mori chuckled, shaking his head slightly - he found it so funny that dad and I were so incredibly different.

"_Ne_, Takashi-kun?" dad added brightly, one arm around my shoulders as he looked up at Mori. "What do you think about this ball next week? Are you going to invite anyone special? I'm sure someone who looks as good as you has a girlfriend, or something like that?"

"I haven't really thought to ask anyone," he conceded, fixing the strap of his bag down one shoulder. "Haven't really thought who to ask."

"Why don't you ask Haruhi? I'm sure she'd love to go with - "

"Dad!"

"What? I'm only teasing, love~!"

"What is it with you and my love life!?"

"What love life?"

"_Dad!_"

"Aww, you're so adorable when you get angry - isn't she adorable when she's angry?" Dad had me pinioned to his side and was beaming up at Mori while I fixedly kept my eyes away from him, fuming with my face flushing like a firetruck; I surreptitiously elbowed dad in the ribs. "See, Takashi-kun agrees with me!"

I looked up irritably, and saw that Mori was smiling at me. I felt my blush go from red to almost purple.

"Will you be coming, Ranka-san?" he inquired, directing his eyes away from me and at dad instead.

"As if I would miss it!"

Mori seemed about to reply when his phone went off.

"Hello?" he said, lifting it to his ear. "Satoshi, hi - how was school?"

"So, where's this ticket, then?" dad asked excitedly, voice hushed so as not to disturb Mori's conversation with his younger brother.

"Oh, um..." I snapped out of my bubble of embarrassment, slinging the bag from my shoulder and rummaging around until my fingers touched my notepad. "Right here." I pulled out the notepad and opened it, picking out the shiny gold ticket and handing it to him. He held it with a kind of reverence, hardly daring to touch it, holding it with the very tips of his bright-nailed fingers.

"For the love of Jourdan..." I heard him whisper, and couldn't stop myself from rolling his eyes; I'd been utterly correct in assuming that she had become his new god.

"Okay, see you there." Mori pressed the 'End Call' button and flipped his phone shut. I looked back to him, and he smiled fractionally. "I have to go pick my little brother up from kendo. It was nice seeing you again, Ranka-san." He bowed his head, and dad giggled.

"And you, Takashi-kun; don't go being a stranger now, you're always welcome at Fort Fujioka - isn't that right, Haruhi?"

"Yeah. Sure..."

He straightened up, smiling at me.

"I'll text you," he said whilst backing away, and I meekly returned his smile.

"Not if I text you first," I replied as he walked on.

"I look forward to it," he told me, turning around and breaking into a jog, bag swinging against his hip. I waved after him, and so did dad before he bent and whispered in my ear.

"He has a nice bum, doesn't he?"

"**_Dad!_**"

* * *

**Thursday 27th April 2014, 20:39 **

**Noboru private laboratory, **Mt.****Warusawa**; Shizuoka**

"There," Noboru said finally, putting a final line across the neck of the seven of the equation, right at the edge of the blackboard. He threw away the nub of chalk he'd almost used up, clapping his hands in triumph and running them through his unkempt, greasy brown hair. He'd been running on four hours sleep, accumulated throughout the past three days, and _finally_ he had completed Cho's original algorithm.

Now he could sleep. Even if it was for just a few hours, he could sleep.

He could hear the muffled snores of Cho Atsuko from where she sat low on her stool, slumped over a table with her head on a book about advanced distillation. Noboru didn't know exactly where the other three were, no doubt making coffee or passed out on the floor. But now they had permission to do so, for he'd forbidden them to sleep until a few hours ago when he'd grown too weary to keep reminding them; they had all disappeared, but Cho - dear, faithful, pitiful Cho - had remained there with her beloved, until she too had been snatched away by sleep.

At long last the epidemiologist turned away from the blackboard, feet sliding over fallen papers and crumpled up notations. The lights were so glaringly harsh on his burning retinas, his eyes red with exhaustion; he fumbled drunkenly around in his white coat's pocket, pulling out the room's remote control. He punched one of the many tiny buttons, and the window blinds shot open to reveal the sunset outside.

"Dammit," he grunted, squinting his sleep deprived eyes at the miniscule inscriptions upon each of the buttons. He at last found the correct one, pushing it down forcefully and at once all the lights went out, leaving the room illuminated in a bluish light tinged with gold. He walked over to the wide window, his legs feeling limp and lifeless so he dragged them more than anything else. The young scientist watched the sun in its slow descent, nearly all gone behind the adjacent mountainside. He looked twice his age in this state, fear and exhaustion draining him entirely of all that made him handsome.

He checked his digital watch, and the dully pulsating numbers told him the time but he was not at all interested - it was time for bed, whatever time it actually was. Noboru turned away from the window, dragging himself towards the door that seemed so very far away from him. Cho's comatose form met him midway, and he stopped. He barely had the strength to keep himself standing, let alone to carry her upstairs too. But if she woke up alone, with him comfy in bed, what kind of lowlife bastard would she see him as? And he had to keep her close, however he achieved it. He had to seem like he was truly in love with her.

He muttered curses and aspersions under his breath as he hooked an arm around her shoulders, the other beneath her legs. Shaking immensely, he carried her from the room, turning sideways to get through the door. Two of the others met him in the hallway, slumped over one another upon the chaise-lounge next to the grand staircase; Noboru eyed the structure distastefully as he reached the bottom stair. He bounced Cho in his arms to reaffirm his hold of her, her head falling limply onto his shoulder, and he began to climb the cherry wood steps.

He managed it somehow, staggering upwards and grunting away the frustration he held towards the muscles that screamed at him for sleep. Turning right upon the landing, he pushed his way toward the room at the end. He almost fell through the door when he reached it, thanking whatever deity existed or did not that it was open. Carrying Cho over to the bed seemed like the march through Purgatory with Heaven waiting, tantalisingly, in the distance - so close, and yet so far. When he lay her down he hoped that would be the end of it, that he could just crawl onto the mattress next to her and that would be that, but she let out a soft moan and moved her head. He saw her eyes open fractionally, and felt a venomous urge to hit her.

"Jiro...?" she breathed, weak and tired. "Is that you...?"

"Yes," he said shortly as he sat down on the other side of the bed, fighting back the urge to shout - who else would it be? Stupid girl; it just _had_ to have been her he was tasked with keeping safe...

She rolled onto her other side so she could look at him, smiling meekly at her love through the darkness.

"Did you finish it?" the girl whispered, hearing the rustle of fabric as he lay down. He did not look at her, instead glowering up at the four-poster's canopy - it was so dark she could only make out his outline, unable to see his expression of fury.

"Yes," he replied, voice much calmer than he felt. Go to sleep, stupid girl - just shut up and go to sleep! "Yes, I did."

"I'm so proud of you..." He felt her inch closer across the mattress, reaching around for a few moments until her thin fingers intertwined with his. "I'll always be proud of you, Jiro, no matter what's happened." His hand clenched in hers with revulsion, repelled by her simpering touch. She put her lips to his cheek, kissing him softly. "I love you." He didn't reply for a while, and she wondered whether he'd already fallen asleep. Then he turned his head to her, and she saw the dim lights glowing in his bright blue eyes.

"I love you, too, my butterfly," he told her, in a voice so soft and so gentle she didn't imagine even for a second that he felt quite the opposite at that time. He pressed his lips against hers. "I'm so sorry you got mixed up in this - and I'm so sorry for shouting at you."

"I already forgave you," Cho answered, and there was a light crack in her voice. She had begun to cry. _So pathetic_, he thought to himself.

"_Ne, ne_, what's this?" he asked, and she sniffed quietly as she tried to wipe away her tears. "Don't cry, my butterfly - don't cry... I'm here." He put his arms around her, and she pressed herself to him like petals on a rose. Instead of trying to quiet her tears she now let them roll free, pouring out her heart and soul to the person she could whole-heartedly trust, feeling his infinite affection as he held her in his embrace. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found him, to have found someone who - for once - did not want to use her. All the men she had ever known, ever since middle school, had wanted to keep them by their side and control her, to show her off to their friends because 'their girlfriend was hotter than everyone else's'. But she'd had enough. Throughout university she had stuck to herself and only herself. She never went anywhere, left the hall of residence only for lectures. Until she met Jiro, who had dropped by the university to give a talk about the spreading of pathogens in an infected bloodstream. The way he had talked had fascinated her, his air of effervescence and that smile he gave that made it seem as though there was nobody else in the world he so wanted to speak to. She had found herself participating theorems and discussion far more frequently than she ever did in class, and after the lecture he had pulled her aside and written his credentials should she ever want to work for him. It was the first time a man had taken interest in her mind and not her body.

It was only too unfortunate that this was not an outstanding phenomenon, for - though the aim of attention had changed - she was, once again, being used. But she was too in love to notice, and too in love to care.

Once her tears had begun to fade away, and she was hiccupping quietly in his hold, Noboru was grinning maliciously at the wall opposite.

"I'm so happy I could have found you, Jiro..." Cho finally managed to choke, and she pulled her head away from his chest to look through watery eyes at the face she knew and loved.

"No, no..." he whispered, pulling her body closer to his own, rolling over so he lay crouched just above her. "I'm so happy _I_ could have found _you_." Her lip trembled as she tried to smile, and Noboru lowered his matted brown head closer and closer to hers. "And I promise, nobody will ever hurt you like that again." Before she could respond he crushed his lips against hers, holding tight to the sides of her face like the jaws on a bear trap. Stupid girl that she was, she reciprocated him within an instant, as he steamrolled through every defence she had ever made like a train that billowed noxious black steam. He had her stabbed right through the heart, and he knew it; the prettiest little butterfly on the blackboard.

_Yes_, he told himself, _nobody will ever hurt her again after this catastrophe is over. Because it's hard to hurt people when they're dead._

* * *

**Thursday 27th April 2014, 20:39**

**Fujioka Residence**

"Haruhi, how's your homework coming along?" I heard dad call as I lay on my bed, typing out a message to Mori on my phone. "Haruhi?" His footsteps came closer and closer, and then he knocked on the door.

"Fine, dad," I replied, clicking 'Send Message'. The door opened and dad popped his long-haired head through the gap.

"That doesn't look like homework to me," he said shrewdly, pushing the door open and standing there like a matron with his hands on his hips.

"Like I said," I replied, sitting up and smiling as the phone buzzed with Mori's reply, "It's coming along fine, so I'm multitasking for a little bit." With that I proceeded to type out my reply to his question of 'what are you up to right now?'

'**_20:39 from [ME]_**

_Homework_

_Kinda_

_Dad's moaning at me for texting :p_

_You?'_

"I am not moaning!" he cried in outrage, having peeped over my shoulder to see what I was up to. "And draw your curtains when it gets dark - Jourdan knows we pay enough for heating as it is!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," I teased, flipping the lid down and getting off the bed to go close the curtains. I paused when I got to the window, my little private eye out at the world. The sun was setting over the many rooftops of town, casting an orange hue over everything in sight. I heard the door close behind me as dad muttered something about having a bath before bed, but I didn't move; a moment later I could hear the bath water beginning to run.

I smiled. I loved watching the sun go down, even if the view from my room wasn't so spectacular. It was just a little snippet of nature's magic that was there for the everyday eye to see. I sighed contentedly, holding to the curtains as I looked out at the buildings as they glowed like gold. Then my phone buzzed with its high pitched alert tone, and I ripped the curtains closed and hurried back to my bed to see what Mori had said.

'**_20:40 from Mori-senpai :-)_**

_Texting you, obviously'_

I was going to reply with something equally as sarcastic, but then I heard a sort of strangled yelp intermingled with a scream sound from the bathroom next door. I rushed out a hastily typed message.

'**_20:40 from [ME]_**

_i have to go something's up with dad im sorry'_

Having sent the message I dropped the mobile on the bed and hurried to the room to my left, where dad stood in front of the small mirror above the sink with his bandages in the empty bowl. The water ran noisily into the bath, but even so as I entered I could hear my phone alert cry out three times.

"Dad?" I intoned, approaching him cautiously, "Is something wrong?"

"Haruhi..." he replied, turning to face me with his hand outstretched; I could see a few shallow teeth marks, around while had grown a dark purplish bruise. Small green pustules dotted about like flecks of paint. "Is this...normal?"

"I... I don't know," I said truthfully, taking his hand in mine and inspecting it. "I don't know..." I very lightly touched my finger to the bruise, and he let out a gasp of discomfort. A drop of blood rolled down his finger and dropped onto the white floor tiles. It wasn't red, rather more like purple in colour. I looked up at him worriedly, hearing my phone go off with Mori's set ring tone.


	5. Encounters and the Avoidance Thereof

**Friday 28th April 2014, 13:09**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

Noboru awoke with a start, his eyes flashing open to the sunlight streaming in. He did not move immediately, instead trying to think what on earth he was doing in bed. It felt so long ago since he had slept in one that the mattress seemed alien, and soon to swallow him whole with its softness.

He sat up slowly, holding to his head as it throbbed uncomfortably. Beside him, Cho did not move except to breathe. Noboru let go of his head as the headache abated, looking around the room. He'd not been to this particular family home for years, for it was not especially comforting nor exciting, just there for private research and perhaps a sordid affair - the bedroom was the only inviting place to be found in the enormous building. This particular Noboru laboratory belonged to his sixth brother but he rarely used it, save for when he grew tired of his wife and son and wished to arrange a private appointment with his secretary.

In looking about and at the way the shadows fell, Noboru surmised it was just past midday. Trying hard no to wake Cho, for he knew she would try and talk to him in that maddening way lovesick women always seemed to, he pushed the covers from him and went to the window. Outside he could see the mountains spread out below him, the perfect hideaway from those... aberrations. From where the building stood, with nothing but stillness and rocks around them, he would be able to see anything that came their way. In the distance there was the city of Shizuoka, barely visible through the various peaks that surrounded the scenery.

Noboru would have been quite content to have spent another few minutes looking out at the unfamiliar world beyond the window, but it was then that he heard Cho rolling over in bed; he turned to see her hand stroking up and down the mattress where he had just been lying. Soon enough he knew she could notice he was not there, and then she would sit up and give him that simperingly stupid smile and say, "I love you," or else something equally as gallingly naive. Before that could happen, however, Noboru padded quickly over to the door and slipped away, making his way along the corridor to the bathroom, which he hurriedly locked himself in.

Letting out a breath of relief, for he did not need to face her for as long as he could draw out, he turned and rested his back upon the door. His eyes fell upon the bath, clinically white and gleaming. Oh, how nice it would be to just sit in that enormous tub of hot water as it massaged away every ache from the last four days.

"Hello, old friend," he said, smiling with satisfaction.

* * *

**Friday 28th April 2014, 17:32**

**Fujioka Residence**

"Dad, I'm home!" I called, already kicking off my shoes as I closed the front door; I heard dad sneeze in reply. "Are you feeling okay? What did they say at the clinic?"

"A load of absolute - " But his reply was conveniently cut short by another hearty sneeze, as he came bustling out of his room with one sleeve of his lacy dressing gown hanging down from one shoulder and a tissue pressed to his pink nose. He looked rather unwell, no doubt a result of his refusing to fall ill so close to the most important social event on the calendar and having tried to prove it by going into work despite having what I was sure was just a cold - he had been working awfully hard lately, trying to give me more time to study what with my summer exams in just over a month, even without the odd rash on his hand. Not that it was anything to worry about - he'd probably found some new cosmetic or hand cream with apricot in when he was out at the drug store, allergic as he was to the infernal orange fruit.

"I'm sure it's just an allergic reaction," I told him as I slung my bag on one of the hooks next to the door. "You said you were testing hand creams the other day? It probably soaked into your bloodstream through the bite marks and messed around a little bit - it shouldn't be anything much to worry about."

Dad smiled, plunking himself down at the table and looking at me through sleepy eyes as I unpicked my tie.

"Always so perceptive," he said, resting his chin in his palms. "Are you sure you want to be a lawyer? Because you'd be a damn-sight better than these local GP's, I'm telling you."

"What did they think it was?" I asked, shrugging my blazer onto the sofa and leaning against it.

"Some kind of infected insect bite," he answered, pouting his lips in scepticism. I frowned.

"Honestly..." I muttered, pushing off from the sofa and heading toward the tiny fridge. I pulled it open and scouted around it to see what there was on offer; I wanted to make something nice for dad, since he'd been pushing himself to the bone for me and now he was probably getting a cold too. Deciding that ramen and stir fry were not particularly exciting, I closed the magnet-encrusted door and straightened up; dad looked at me expectantly. "How about we get a takeaway tonight?" I asked.

He smiled gratefully, but his eyes were turned down with tiredness.

"What kind?"

"Whatever you want - this is my treat."

"Oh, Haruhi..." He raised his lace-clad arms and I stepped into them for a hug. "I'm so lucky to have a daughter like you." He burrowed his face into my shoulder like a rabbit would, and I could feel how weak his arms were around my waist.

"You need to stop working yourself so hard, dad," I mumbled, tightening my grip about him, "Or it'll be the end of you; mom worked herself into the ground for us, and in the end it got too much for her." I pretended not to hear his little sniffle, instead rubbing my hand up and down his back. I pressed my lips to the crown of his head and kissed him as a mother would her child. For a moment I didn't say anything, the silence permeated by dad's subdued whimpering. "Don't make me lose you, as well..."

* * *

**Saturday 29th April 2014, 10:27**

**Fujioka Residence**

I woke up later than usual the next day, perhaps due to my having gone to bed the same morning as I woke up. I blamed myself as much as I blamed Mori for texting me - I ought to have told him to shut up long before it reached three o'clock...

Especially when I'd be seeing him today, too. Not privately or anything, we were meeting up at Kyoya's house to spend the day planning for Monday evening. It was so close, I don't know why the school couldn't have chosen its organisers sooner - not much gets done in a week. But I guess it's one of those things thrown into the mix by senior management, testing the ingenuity and capabilities of a club to make sure their funding was going to a worthy target.

Rolling over irritably I peeked through one eye at the alarm clock on my bedside table, and groaned to see it was almost half past ten which meant I didn't have any time to linger beneath the suddenly extremely comfortable bedcovers. My resolve always wasted away to nothing on weekends, my tenacious ritual of leaping out of bed the moment my alarm went off melting languorously into sluggishness at having nothing in particular to get stuck into and flopping out of bed a long while after my weekend alarm had gone off. But today I needed to go quickly, for by train it took about forty minutes to get to Kyoya's house, plus a ten minute walking time. And, of course, we'd arranged to meet for half past eleven. So, let's see, I had... ten minutes, maximum, to have a shower, eat breakfast, get dressed and get down to the station in time for the right train.

Great.

But I could go without doing one of those - I could either not shower, which I'd meant to do the night before but had gotten caught up on my phone with a certain deviously-distracting third year, or not eat, which I'd done a number of times before school so I supposed that was the easier option. I could run to the station instead of walk and easily have enough time to buy a coffee and a snack bar over the counter at the station.

Pushing off the covers, I threw myself out of bed and towards the door. I was met in the hallway by dad, who looked as though he had slept even worse than I had and yet still he was in his usual get-up of black leather and lace.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, taking a surprised step back from me. "Good morning, Haruhi - I was just off to - "

"No, you were not just off to work," I said warningly, pulling the handbag from the crook of his arm and tossing it backwards into my room and closing the door behind me. "You were just off to bed again. Weren't you?" I folded my arms and glared daggers at him - even he, stubborn as he was, could not resist my death glare.

"I... yes, yes I was - how did you know?" He tittered nervously, fumbling like a drunk with the top button of his leather jacket.

"Oh, come here," I sighed, popping the button for him and pulling off the jacket. I put a hand to his forehead, and felt as though I might be scolded if it were anything but skin. "Dad, for goodness' sake, you're burning up - how could you even think about going to work in this state?" He tried to stutter a reply, but I held up my hand to halt him. "I don't have time right now, I've got a meeting with Kyoya and the others at his house; you just get back to sleep, okay? Fix yourself some camomile first - I'd do it myself, but I don't have time." I kissed his forehead before heading down the short corridor and entering the bathroom.

I shimmied out of my pyjamas and turned on the water, waiting with mounting impatience for the water to heat up as I inspected my reflection in the small mirror above the sink. There were dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, but were nowhere near as protuberant as dad's were right now. With my hair mussed and my eyes looking bleak, I reminded myself somewhat of a zombie.

Before I ran out of time I threw myself under the lukewarm spray of the shower and shuddered, but immediately set to scrubbing my hair and reaching for a shampoo bottle - of which there were many, all in varying degrees of emptiness but never any that were remotely full. I always wondered why dad was so unable to finish a bottle before buying three more...

A bare two minutes after setting foot inside the shower I was once again out, ripping a towel from the rack and holding it around me as I returned to my room. I wrapped the towel around my hair like a turban, pulling on some underwear and a pair of jean shorts over them. I riffled through my sparse rack of clothes hangers, looking for nothing in particular, until I decided upon a simple white button-up blouse with pastel flowers printed across it. I picked up my trusty messenger bag, scraping up some pens and a random notepad and dropping them in, along with my purse and my phone, along with a book to read on the train.

"I'm going now, dad!" I shouted as I left my room, flinging the towel from around my head so it landed upon the sofa in the front room.

"Alright... have fun!"

"And don't you dare try and sneak out while I'm not here!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Haruhi!"

As much as I didn't want to leave him on his own in his present state, if the doctors were being idiots about it and not prescribing anything useful, there wasn't anything at all I could do by myself. I just had to trust him not to do anything stupid. Which, knowing him, he was definitely going to do. But I had other concerns at the moment, too - like getting to the station on time. I ran as fast as I could without causing sever lung damage, which was not especially fast at all (I really was _not _an athletic person. I even get jealous of people who can run in a straight line for more than thirty seconds, let alone across town). At least the morning breeze dried my hair.

I got to the station a bare minute before the train was to depart, just pulling into the station with its great wheels squealing as I jumped up the steps two at a time; I ripped my purse from the bag and jammed a few notes into the ticket machine, tapping my foot with great impatience as I waited for it to register, casting worried glances toward the train every few seconds.

These machines were always painfully slow, even with me jabbing the buttons as quickly as I was able. It seemed to be laughing at me, as far as laughter goes in ticket appliances, as it printed out the ticket but got stuck behind the little plastic window.

"For the love of - " I shoved my hand inside, flapping about madly for it and managing to knock it loose. As I straightened up I heard the guard's whistle blow, and the doors hissing before they started to close. "No, no, no, no, no, wait!" I bellowed, running after him with my ticket brandished high above my head.

"Cutting it awfully close, love," he told me, pressing the button to open the doors with a soft _tut_ and raising his eyebrows.

"Sorry," I said, bowing my head low in apology. The doors unsealed with a hiss, and I clambered inside to the accompanying mutterings of the passengers inside. "Thank you," I called over my shoulder to the guard, and he raised his hand in acknowledgement. In order to avoid the disgruntled looks I was receiving I walked to the end of the compartment and took the seat next to the window. As the train jolted and began to move, I stared longingly out through the finger-stained glass and watched the small food stand move further and further away from me. I should have thought to stop in the kitchen and pick up and apple or something. But, then again, I barely made it to the train without stopping. I definitely would have missed it if I had. Deciding it would be better to just ignore my gently growling stomach than to moan about it to myself, I unclipped my bag and reached inside for my book. I flipped it open, thumbing around for a few seconds to find my bookmark, and began to read.

**Saturday 29th April 2014, 10:48**

**Train to Shinryōsho Station, Compartment 3**

I'd already grown bored of my book, and wasn't easily able to abate my hunger with words I had read so many times before. Instead I was staring out the window, watching buildings flit by in their masses as they steadily grew taller and more austere in appearance; I didn't much like this part of town. It was too built up, too commercial, and much too superficial for my tastes; everything in my own area seemed to be built on similar aesthetic and friendliness - those of us who lived a simple life, like me and dad and everyone else we knew (save the glamorous lot of Ouran Academy) were very much part of a community who lent out favours to their friends and neighbours, offering cut-backs and deals with goods for helping find the family cat last week. But here everybody stuck to themselves and their briefcases, clinically civil and sanitised with businesslike charm and handshakes. There wasn't any life, just existence. And there was a big difference between the two.

Just then there came the light hissing noise of the compartment doors opening, and I looked round in basic human curiosity - besides, it might have been the maddeningly over-priced food trolley. But it wasn't the trolley, or the familiar old lady in her uniform, but rather a person who was equally as familiar, bag hung from their shoulder as it ever was.

"Ah, Haruhi," Mori said, having spotted me looking at him. He was just tucking his phone into the pocket of his light grey jeans. "Mind if I join you? My compartment's getting too full for me."

"Yeah, sure," I replied, picking up my bag from the seat next to me and dumping it at my feet. The third year smiled fractionally in thanks, sinking down into the seat on my right. We chatted lightly for a number of minutes, the usual stuff - how are you, how'd you sleep, looking forward to Monday, blah blah blah... The my stomach growled noisily. "Sorry," I mumbled, putting a hand to my stomach, "I haven't had breakfast yet."

"I've got a little left over," he offered, reaching down for his bag.

"Oh, no, it's fine," I tried to tell him, but he'd already pulled out the bento box.

"You need to eat, Haruhi," he insisted, voice sounding almost stern as he raised an eyebrow at me. "Besides, you won't get much at Kyoya's house - the Ootori's are fans of eating little and late." He pushed the red plastic box onto my lap, and folding his arms as though that settled the matter.

"Alright," I conceded, holding up my hands in surrender. "Alright." I popped off the lid, greeted with a pair of handmade spring rolls and a moderately sized mound of rice - it wasn't much, but I was sure it would last me to lunchtime (whenever that would be). "Is Honey-senpai not with you?" I asked through a mouthful of roll. Mori shrugged.

"People always seem to assume that we do everything together, in school and out," he told me, "But Mitskuni and I actually live at opposite ends of town."

"Really?"

"Ah."

I hadn't known that before. Mori didn't often talk about Honey to me, in person or text. I suppose he thought if Honey wanted me to know something he'd tell me himself, because that was the kind of person he was - that they both were. I liked them for that, liked that they left other people's business to that person and didn't talk about it themselves; Kyoya really had quite a lot to learn in that respect.

We continued chatting for another ten minutes or so, with me munching away at the surprisingly tasty breakfast he'd given me. By the time I'd finished there were only a couple of minutes to go until we reached our stop.

"Thank you, Mori-senpai," I told him, bowing my head in thanks as I handed the now empty red box back to him. "It was delicious, for what it was." The corner of his thin lip curved upwards a little.

"No problem," he acknowledged, stowing the box back in his enormous backpack. "I made it myself, actually."

"You did?" I asked, taken aback.

"Ah," he replied, smiling a little more at the look on my face, "I actually quite enjoy cooking."

"You? You enjoy cooking?" I repeated, grinning. "You, the kendo and karate champion, like making spring rolls in your spare time?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No, no," I laughed, putting my head amiably against his shoulder. "Of course not; just surprising, is all."

"Hardly the strangest thing in the world; Tamaki took lessons in dancing jazz until he was twelve."

* * *

**Saturday 29th April 2014, 11:34**

** Ootori Residence**

"Takashi! Haru-chan! Hiii~" Honey was standing out upon the glass-railed balcony, waving madly down at us as we walked together towards Kyoya's enormous monochromatic house. It was four times the size of our apartment on the first floor, at least, with another two storeys left to go. I raised my hand in greeting, and Tamaki came tearing out of the front door at the sound of my name being called. The twins appeared behind him, grinning that identical smile of theirs as they waved; Kyoya stood in the gap between their heads, hand raised statically.

"Haaaaruhiiiiii~" the exuberant blonde screamed, arms outstretched to seize me in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, you look so cute today - look at her, Mori-senpai, she's even wearing florals! So adorable!" He had me held in a grip so tight I thought my eyes might pop from their sockets, Tamaki turning me round and round like an annoying blonde spinning-top.

"Senpai - " I tried to gasp, but then he had released me and had instead taken hold of my hand and begun pulling me towards the house.

"Mama! Mama, look at our little girl - she's wearing _florals_!"

"Yes, yes, I can see that," Kyoya intoned, pushing the glasses up his thin nose.

"But she never wears florals!" Tamaki continued excitedly, bursting through the twins as he dragged me into the glossy-floored entrance hall. "This is like a milestone for her in her path to becoming a blossoming young lady! Kyoya, quickly, we need drinks to celebrate!"

"No, we do not," the bespectacled boy with black hair told him sternly, prising me away from his best friend and straightening my collar. "What we need is to get down to business."

"Aw, you're no fun, Kyoya-senpai," the twins intoned, pouting at the austere second year.

"What did you expect, a party?" he replied, folding his thin arms.

"A party sounds good," Hikaru commented, exchanging glances with his brother.

"Yeah, your house is big enough," Kaoru added.

"Guys, come on," I said, on Kyoya's side in the matter - I hadn't run myself ragged without any breakfast (regardless of my having been given Mori's) to mess around and skirt about the business. "The party's on Monday, and we're all here to plan it. Now shut up unless you have something useful to say."

"Thank you, Haruhi," Kyoya smiled sideways at me, shrewdness (as ever) in the curl of his lips. "Now, all we have to wait for is Honey-senpai." But we didn't have to wait especially long, for soon enough we heard the scampering of little feet as he came skipping down the great spiral staircase from the floor above, Usa-chan flouncing around under one arm.

"Haru-chan, you look so cute!" he told me, beaming.

"Doesn't she just!?" Tamaki sighed, clapping his hands together and swaying from side to side like a lovesick schoolgirl.

"We've already established the degrees of Haruhi's endearing aesthetic," Kyoya interjected, before Tamaki could get too carried away once more. The bespectacled boy walked over to a pair of sleek oak doors and pushed them open to reveal a pure white sitting room, every item of furniture being freshly cleaned and pampered with fabric softener. It was as though the room was covered in a blanket of snow. Despite it being the wrong time of year for it, there was an enormous pale blue kotatsu in the centre of the room with seven cups of tea readily set out upon it; Tamaki let out a squeal of delight at the sight of it, and Kyoya gave him a slight smile over his shoulder. "Shoes off, please, if you don't mind - and then we can get down to business."


	6. Anxiety's Attendance

**Saturday 29th April 2014, 15:42**

**Ootori Residence**

"And, with that last issue, I'd say we're all perfectly set," Kyoya announced to the accompanying cheers of worn-out jubilation from Hikaru and Kaoru, who absolutely and utterly _despised_ meetings and other such boring attractions; I shushed them, however, jabbing a finger towards Honey as he slept peacefully beneath the warm blanket of the kotatsu, which hastily quieted them. "What time should we organise tomorrow?"

"Whenever's best for everyone else," I replied, to the enthusiastic nodding of Tamaki. Kyoya flipped open his little black notebook, casting a glance round the table.

"Three o'clock?" he offered.

"Mitskuni and I have karate then," Mori said. "Until half past four."

"Shall we say five, then?"

"Five's good."

"Me, too."

"Ah."

"We can get ours done tonight," said the twins, "After all, it is our mom who's making them." By 'them' the twins meant the matching pale grey suits we were set to wear, along with dark red waistcoats and roses - as designed through a poorly drawn illustration from Tamaki, which the twins had repeatedly teased him for.

"Then I suppose that's everything we're here for," Kyoya said, snapping his notebook shut after pencilling in the time. "I'll see you all at five o'clock tomorrow at Hikaru and Kaoru's."

"Honey-senpai," I said gently, shaking the tiny blonde boy a little. "Honey-senpai, it's time to wake up."

"Haruhi, kindly do not wake him up when in my home," the bespectacled boy told me, and I looked at him in surprise, having forgotten momentarily what Honey was like after being woken up. "I'd rather not have to charge you for a new set of furniture. I'll have a car send him home when he wakes up by himself."

"Alright," I said, getting up and stretching my aching legs. I gathered up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, "See you tomorrow, Kyoya-senpai!"

"See you tomorrow," he replied, raising a hand in farewell. "Good work today." I was almost done putting my shoes on when I thought of something.

"Wait, Kyoya-senpai!" I burst out, flicking off my shoes again and turning back into the living room as I clipped open my bag; he presented me a bemused smile and a pair of raised eyebrows. I fished out my phone and began rifling through my files to find what I was looking for. "Dad has this thing with his hand," I explained, opening the image file and handing the mobile to Kyoya, "The GPs don't think it's important, and neither did I initially but now I'm not so very sure - your whole family are physicians, so I wondered what your opinion is on the matter."

It was a picture I had taken last night after dinner, and it had gotten worse; the bruise had spread further up his arm and toward his fingertips, angry red blotches appearing to coincide with the greenish pustules. Kyoya frowned, removing his glasses and peering hard at the screen.

"It's certainly not anything I've come across before," he conceded, pressing a number of buttons to zoom in and pan about. "But what kind of mindless morons do they hire at your clinic?" I shrugged, not knowing the answer myself. Besides, it wasn't as though we could afford anyone better. He handed the phone back to me after a lengthy analysis.

"Any idea?" He shook his head.

"Absolutely none," he admitted. "But I'm fairly certain that taking regular antibiotics would help, and soon enough I'm sure his immune system will kick it."

"Thank you."

"It's nothing - but I'll be sure to ask father tonight and get back to you tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you," I said again, bowing low in thanks. Kyoya smiled, one of those rare smiles that seemed genuine. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," I added as I straightened up, tucking the phone back inside my bag. "Goodbye, Kyoya-senpai. Have a lovely evening."

"And you, Haruhi. And you."

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 12:46**

**OuranHigh School, Music Room 3**

It was past the end of club hours and all the guests had petered out over the last ten minutes or so, many if not all wishing us luck with the festival for which preparation would start in about half an hour. I'd been uneasy all day and yesterday, especially after Kyoya had told me that even his father had not known what affliction was ailing Ranka. As well as that uncomfortable news, dad's purplish markings now snaked up nearly all his arm and he was in worse shape than ever. It was like he had the flu or something, but worse. He'd started throwing up in addition to his fever and insomnia, which was not at all pleasant for him or for me. I'd been glad to get out of the house for the afternoon yesterday, but at the same time I couldn't believe I'd left him alone. He was in no fit state to care for himself, bad enough at self preservation when I was around to help let alone when I was not. What with the festival being in just a few short hours, I was feeling really rather queasy from all the things conflicting in my mind.

On top of all this he kept on insisting, right up until I ran out the door to catch the train, that he was going to be well enough to attend, himself. Which he wasn't. I knew he wasn't. He'd go around infecting everyone left, right, and centre; it was a miracle I wasn't crouched over the sink and clutching my stomach this very instant. I'd never had much of a strong constitution, and got sick quite easily. There was something abnormal going on with dad, for me not to have caught it too, but there was simply no telling at all what it actually was. And it was driving me insane! And you could see it on my face, clear as words on a page; my eyes were puffy and darkened with lack of sleep, and my hair was irritably bedraggled.

There was simply no way at all I could leave him for a whole day; an afternoon or a morning, he'd just about get by, but if I spent all day at school I might come home and find him having a fit or something. Every minute I grew more and more agitated, and it was making me feel sick to my stomach.

"Haruhi?"

"Mori-senpai!" I turned my head to look at him in surprise, but a moment later I was upon my feet, glad for something to distract me from my incessant worrying. "What's up?" He didn't say anything for a moment - unsurprising of the Strong and Silent type.

"About the dance," he said, not really looking at me, but rather at a spot just beyond my shoulder. "I wondered who you'd be coming as."

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"As in..." He paused. "Are you coming as a Host or as yourself?"

"Oh... I... I don't know, I hadn't thought about it. Dad has a dress and everything, and he'd really keen for me to wear it, but I'd assumed I'd be coming as a Host until now, so..."

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds.

"Please come as you," he quietly intoned. I looked at him; the lightest shade of pink had begun to dapple his cheeks. I almost smiled.

"Is that your way of asking people to a dance?" I asked, shaking my head slightly and folding my arms.

"Is that your way of turning people down to a dance?" he replied. I paused, thinking long and hard about my answer. I'm sure he meant for us to go as friends, there was no way he saw me in any other respect, but I didn't know if I'd be able to go at all - I mean, dad was just so ill... When I didn't say anything I could see that the tall third year was feeling discouraged. Before I could cause him anymore idle unrest, I turned down my head and bent in apology.

"Yeah. It is... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he jumped to say, but still I kept my head bowed, "Really, I don't know why I asked - it was obvious enough you'd come as a Host, it's a lot off your debt, isn't it?"

"No," I said, straightening up, "I mean that as in... Well, I'm fairly certain I won't be attending at all."

"Oh..."

"Dad's really sick; I can't leave him alone while I'm out partying. I couldn't forgive myself."

"I understand," Mori said with an ashen sort of smile.

"I'm afraid I don't," came a shrewd voice. The two of us looked round to see Kyoya eyeing me with a certain coldness, tucking what looked like his sleek black touch-screen phone into his pocket. "You're a member of the Host Club, aren't you?"

"I - I am."

"Then why don't you act like it?"

"Senpai - "

"_For once_, why don't you act like it?"

"Kyoya...?" Tamaki said, but the black haired boy did not bless him with a reply. The others had all pricked up their ears, cautiously gathering round in confusion. Kyoya took a step toward me as if in threat, but I did not move, staring straight at him.

"I do," I answered him icily, refusing this criticism, "I always do, and you know it - it was less than a week ago that you yourself called me a benefit to the Host Club. If you were any kind of person a girl would wish to find in a club like this, you would have meant that. But you didn't, did you?" Kyoya did not immediately offer his response. "You only said that because it benefits you to keep me here, earning you money and praise from senior management. You couldn't give a damn about how I feel about that, though - not even if you tried!"

Kyoya, previously austere, now just looked rather baffled that I would dare shout at him like this. To illustrate just how little criticism I was going to take from this conniving pretty-boy, I took a number of steps closer to him and jabbed a finger his direction.

"You can't understand what it's like, Kyoya-senpai," I continued loudly, "To have one parent left, all the while digging themselves into the ground so they can get by. I'm not going to waste my dad's efforts by partying, thank you very much - I've contributed enough to this festival for the school to be able to earn quite enough revenue to satisfy even an Ootori, but I will not take any further part in it; I am staying home and looking after my father, thank you very much. If you could see what he's like, right now, perhaps even someone like you could understand."

There was a rather shocked silence, until a voice I had not been expecting permeated the room.

"Oh, Haruhi, you're so cute when you're angry~"

I stared around, taken aback.

"Dad?" I asked confusedly. Kyoya reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone, holding it out to me so that I could see the 'Call Connected' screen with dad's little pixelated image flashing up every few seconds; the bespectacled boy was almost smirking at me, in a way that I had no idea whether or not it was truly malicious. I heard a succession of noisy sneezes from the speaker. "Kyoya-senpai, you - "

"I merely wanted my dear Ranka-san to hear your reasoning, first-hand," he explained, "I did have a suspicion that you would try and do a bunk on tonight's festivities, and so I phoned Ranka-san immediately to let her know." I shot Kyoya a filthy look.

"Haruhi, how could you?" I could hear dad sniffle, his voice nasal and blocked up. "After all this work you've done to help with the planning, too..."

"But, dad, you - "

"No buts, Haruhi!" he cut across me, and then began coughing.

"Ranka-san, are you alright?" Kyoya asked.

"Fine, fine, thank you, Kyoya-kun~"

"Dad, that's a lie and you know it."

"Jourdan, give me strength to deal with this headstrong young woman..."

"Who's Jourdan?" the twins asked together. I knew this was quite possibly the worst thing they could have said.

"_Who's Jourdan!?_" dad screeched, his hoarse voice cracking stupendously. "Who's - "

"Kyoya, can you give me the phone?" I asked over dad's horrified screams, and he hastily nodded; I snatched the phone from his grip and hurriedly pressed the button on-screen that turned off the loudspeakers so I could talk to him privately. "Dad, shush, I'm off speakers now - it's just me and you. Calm down, or you'll lose your voice."

"They don't know who - "

"Dad, that isn't what's important right now!" I shushed him, looking around at all the other Hosts who were exchanging very confused glances. In order to avoid the awkward silence that had started to weigh down upon the room, I hurried over to the store room and closed the door behind me, all the while putting up with dad's incoherent mumblings.

"How do they not know who - "

"Dad!" I interjected, sitting myself down on the sofa that rested against the wall, surrounded by clothes racks.

"Right, right, yes, sorry," he said hastily, clearing his throat and subsequently entering into a violent coughing fit.

"Dad, please, there's no way I can leave you alone tonight - you can't even say five syllables without causing yourself damage. I'm staying home, and that's that."

"No, you are not - you are going to that party and you are going to enjoy yourself!"

"I wouldn't be enjoying myself, I'd spend the whole night dressed up as a boy all the while worrying about you." I heard a creak against the door, and knew for a fact that the Hosts were listening in on me. "Please don't make me go," I added in a quieter voice, turning my back to the door.

"Then don't go as a Host," he replied, "Go as yourself - you have a dress, and you have a date."

"What, I don't have a - "

"Well, you would if you'd paid attention to yourself!" he cut across me, and I could tell there was a pout on his face. "It was quiet enough for me to have to strain my ears, but don't think I didn't hear Takashi-kun asking you - and, by Jourdan, there is no way on earth that I am letting you pass up a boy that good-looking!"

"_Dad!_" I stressed, hoping that none of them were able to hear his outburst through the door. "Please! He's just my friend, come on - just because _you_ want to date him doesn't mean I - "

"Stop denying it, you obtuse lettuce of a woman!"

That was certainly an insult I hadn't been called before.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my fingers against my temple.

"I just want you to enjoy yourself," he said in a much calmer voice, and I knew that if we were speaking face to face he'd be hugging me right now. "I want you to experience life to its fullest while you're still young; you have so much to be proud of, especially your friends. So just take one evening to be grateful for them the way they deserve to be appreciated, okay? They're wonderful boys, Haruhi - including that blonde nitwit, as much as it pains me to say. Stop worrying about immediate issues like me and my bloody flu, and spend whatever time you can with _them_. They won't be around forever, love - Takashi-kun will have moved on next year, and you'd better have kissed him before that happens or I swear I'll - "

"**_Dad!_**" I could feel a blush blossoming across my cheeks.

"I'm only teasing~" he giggled, before coughing madly. I gave him a couple of seconds to regain himself, flinching occasionally as a particularly loud gag reverberated through the speakers. "Haruhi, you're old enough to do what you want - "

"But I want to look after you!"

"No, you don't," he pressed on, refusing to hear a word against it. "You, as much as any girl before you, want to be happy. And I've seen you with them; I've never seen you smile with such pure joy. Never let any of them out of your sight, even if it's for one evening. You don't realise how lucky you are to have them. And they love you, all of them love you - why don't you let them know how much you love them back?" With that the call disconnected from his end, and I was left with a static hum in my ear. I lowered the phone and stared at it for a few long moments, before pressing down on the 'Lock Phone' button; the screen flashed out to black, and I was left with my reflection staring back at me. It seemed to take forever and a day to draw my eyes from my little black reflection and toward the door, where I knew the boys were all waiting for me. I stood up slowly, but did not move. I cradled the phone in my hands as if it were a child.

Then, slowly, tentatively, I started back toward the door. I curled my fingers around the sleek golden handle, and, after a momentary pause, pushed down and out. I saw all the Hosts standing there, brilliant and bright and beautiful in their matching blue uniforms. They looked at me nervously, expectant. My eyes traced along the line, taking in each and every face. None of us said anything.

I smiled at them all, and an instant later they'd all scooped me up in a jubilant, whooping hug. I caught Mori's eye as Tamaki lifted me high in the air like a father with his toddler, and his dark eyes seemed to burn with his previous question. My smile broadened to a grin, and, in answer, I nodded.

He smiled. And it was a truly blissful smile.

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 13:22**

**Fujioka Residence**

I inadvertently announced my arrival home as the door slammed shut behind me, dad responding with an inordinately noisy coughing fit. I could not _believe _he had managed to convince me to leave him at home. But, I'd promised him and the Host Club that I would be going; Mori, in particular, I had promised something to. But, regardless of my promise to attend, Tamaki had ordered me home to freshen up and get some rest - it was obvious how tired I was, and he had set to work with the others, along with senior management and the various other clubs we had roped in to do our bidding, to set up for the festival. I had a number of hours until five, when it started, so set to making myself some lunch that I decided to eat in the comfort of my bedroom.

Whilst sitting on my bed, slurping up my chicken and ramen, my eyes were constantly distracted by the two items of clothing that hung on their hangers from the doorknobs of my small wardrobe: the tailor-made suit and tie, hand-crafted expertly by Yuzuha Hitatchiin and her mother, and which I personally felt terrible about not wearing; and, next to it, the sweet little white and red dress with a pair of beige kitten-heels sat beneath it (luckily, mom and I shared the same foot size). I really did feel bad about not going to wear the garment made so carefully for me and me alone, especially when it was practically a present from the mother of two of my best friends.

But, I'd promised Mori as much as I had promised the rest of them; I said I would go, but I didn't say who as. I almost smiled at my own deviousness, far as it was from my usual personality. But it would make Mori happy, and that was something I liked to see - he, who usually was so stoic, was difficult to see in any particular emotional state. He was just so intensely difficult to read; I suppose that just made the game all the more interesting.

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 15:31**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"Oh, Jiro..." Cho breathed, feeling the mountain air billowing softly through her sleek black hair; how wonderful it felt to have washed once again. She gazed out across the balcony, hands clasping tight to the railing, as her bright grey eyes wandered the mountainside. "Despite everything that's happened, I don't think I've ever felt so peaceful before." She felt warm and secure, safe in the hold of the man who's arms were wrapped, snakelike, around her waist.

"It's all just the serenity you make me feel," he replied, his pointed chin resting upon her shoulder. "It's filled me up, entirely, so now it has nowhere to go but with the wind." The pretty young woman giggled, turning her face so that she could look at his. He was so beautiful, with that dark brown hair and piercing blue stare. She loved everything about that face, from the downward curve of his nose to the sensual dip of his cupid's bow. And that face belonged to her, as did the rest of him - as he had promised, the body that knew her body and had melded into one.

She kissed him, releasing the wooden hand rail and holding to his marble cheeks. Oh, how she loved him, how glad she was that he was safe. He'd begun to kiss her back, hands slipping from her waist to the steady curve of her hips, but she had pulled away.

"What is it, my butterfly?" he asked her, his voice toying at genuine concern - in his mind, however, he feared he had done something wrong, that he had not satisfied her fully. What more did he need to do to keep the stupid girl happy? What, was he to propose marriage? No. Not yet. That was an emergency retreat, and nothing more. He would not do such a thing unless he was truly desperate.

"I was just thinking of how glad I was you were safe," she answered, "But what about those who aren't? Almost everyone at Mokushiroku... On the night it all started; what happened to them?" Noboru said nothing. Cho, pulled herself from him and stared down at her hand. She stroked the palm with one finger, remembering a deep bite mark. "What about Aoi? 'Bites from the affected individuals can place copies of it into the bloodstream of the bitten.' Is that not what he said?" She looked up at her beloved, who nodded with a strange frown upon his face. "Does... does that mean he became one of them?"

"I don't know, my butterfly, I don't - "

"And - and what about the others?" Cho continued, gazing out at an indeterminable point on the horizon. "There were over three hundred personal at Mokushiroku that night. Does that mean there are three hundred monsters roaming the country, now...?" Her voice trailed away, and she seemed to stiffen; Noboru saw her head turn towards the city in the distance, and knew that she wondered whether or not there was one of those aberrations down there that very moment. Then, after a few moments of silence, she began to sniffle. "Where are they, Jiro?" she blurted out, putting her hands to her face. "Where are they? What if they've found another town already, or a city - what if there's a whole city out there on fire, with monsters on every - oh God!" She almost fell over, and Noboru had to remind himself that he couldn't let her fall - as much as he wanted her to, he had to save her. He seized her shoulders, embracing her from behind and whispering words of encouragement and sweetness in her ear, but another, more terrible, thought had entered her mind.

"What about the children, Jiro?" she barely managed to choke out, lowering her hands from her eyes and staring out, horrified, at the mountains around her. "What if there are children like them. My God... Please... don't say any children are harmed..."

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 16:35**

**Fujioka Residence**

I was very nearly finished. I just had to apply a little of dad's favourite nude lipstick, and I was ready. I stood up, smoothing out my dress and smiling at myself in the small mirror I had on the inside of my wardrobe. I brushed my fingers through my hair, pushing back my fringe an inch or so. On the way out of my room I picked up one of mom's old shawls, which was dark blue in colour and very very soft. I draped it over one arm as I knocked on dad's bedroom door.

"Is it time already?" I heard him say excitedly in that hoarse voice of his, an a moment later the door flew open. "Oh... Haruhi..." He stood there, looking really very close to tears. I smiled at him, clasping my hands together and shrugging awkwardly. "Give us a twirl," he instructed me and I obeyed, feeling the skirt flouncing around my knees as I turned. "You look so much like Kotoko, it's unreal."

"Thanks, dad," I mumbled, feeling a small tear welling up and mentally shouting at it to get back to minding its own business because I had spent too long doing my makeup to let some sappy little tear mess it up. Dad reached inside his dressing gown pocket, pulling out the somewhat crumpled ticket and handing it to me.

"You take good care of that, now."

"I will," I replied, knowing just how incredibly precious that little gold token was to him.

"Give us a hug," he whispered, and I readily assented, throwing my arms around him and squeezing him as tight as I could. "You've never looked more beautiful," he told me, and I hugged him harder still. "I don't think I'll ever see you look more beautiful again."

"Thanks, dad."

He let go of me, letting out a deep sigh as he looked me up and down once more.

"Your mother would have loved to see you like this."

"I'm sure she would have. You can tell her all about it." I pointed past him, and he looked round to the only area of his room that was even remotely tidy; the little shrine he'd built for mom after she died, with her picture smiling out at us. Dad smiled back at it, before returning his tired gaze to me.

"I will. I'll have a nice long talk with her, just you see."

I smiled.

"I suppose I ought to go - don't want to be late for the party I helped plan, do I?"

"Yeah, get outta here," dad said, ushering me along the corridor and toward the front door. "And don't come back until you've kissed Takashi-kun, or else you're grounded!"

"Dad!" I laughed as I pushed the front door open, feeling the contradictory cool warmth of the late afternoon breeze. "I'll see what I can do... See you later!" He watched me go as I walked down the front steps, leaning against the railing.

"I love you!" he called as I crossed the street. I raised an arm in acknowledgement.

"I'll be back around midnight!" I called back.


	7. What We Didn't Account For

_**Author's note - yes, I am completely and utterly aware that ANTM does not air originally in Japan. It doesn't even air in England, and I should know. We do, however, get an awful lot of American shows on free +1 stations (no idea what they're called) and ANTM is one of them - no harm done in translating it over to Japan, is there?_

_Glad I could settle that - I've been getting a bunch of flame in my inbox about this and it's been driving me up the bloody wall. Anyway, sorry this chapter took a while, I was at Soul Survivor (this epic week-long youth festival) and then I was stressfully awaiting my GCSE results, which thankfully I was very pleased with. Many thanks for sticking with it so far - especially to my dear friend ERidg17, whom I have been consistently torturing with not-quite-spoilers since the very beginning, and to TheNewCompanion, whose reviews are often the highlight of my day._

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 16:58**

**OuranHigh School**

Having gotten more than enough funny looks on the train I couldn't have been more happy than to see those enormous gold-plated gates looming ahead of me, sparkling like fire in the light of the lanterns that hung from every branch of the cherry blossoms to decked the extensive driveway. All around me were people chattering and laughing, music wafting upon the air like invisible dancers that almost shimmered in the air and made you feel warm and fuzzy and excitable inside. I looked around, smiling absently; it was so nice to see all these people together, from all sorts of lives; none too far away was one of my neighbours, who'd miraculously won a mini-lottery and had decided to spend the winnings on tickets to the festival, and she was flirting animatedly with a pair of boys in Tamaki's class.

No matter where I looked I could see exhilaration, people so easily and so simply enjoying themselves, and I hadn't even set foot in the grand courtyard yet! I felt so glad to have been one of the ones to plan that night, granted that nobody would recognise or know it was me to thank. But I didn't mind, not especially bothered about being praised or not - I wasn't Kyoya.

The closer I got to the gate, the closer the crowd became - packed tight and linking up awkwardly like loops on a knitted scarf. The talk was much louder too, and I was always being caught between conversations that raged on in my ears from every angle. It was as if everyone were brandishing invisible megaphones.

"Ticket, please," said an especially loud voice, and a hand appeared directly in front of my face. I stared at it, bewildered, before realising that I was rather holding back the crowd I was trying so hard to escape. I presented my ticket forward, and a hole was punched in it, my hand also seized and stamped with ink. "Thank you."

"Thank you, too," I muttered, massaging my hand - they'd been somewhat more forceful in stamping me than I would have appreciated. I raised it, and saw the Ouran crest emblazoned against my skin in a violent shade of magenta.

"Move on, please, miss - a lot more people to get through."

"Yes, right, sorry!" I hastened to say, but was already being pushed onward by the ever-impatient crowd. I took a number of steps forward, looking at my punched ticket, before being buffeted by someone as they made their way past. "Watch it...!" I called after them as they disappeared ahead of me, but no sooner had I done so than I stopped and stared. I think my mouth may even have fallen open. The school I thought I knew so well had been transformed as if by magic: wisterias wound their way up the lemonade limestone, glowing like fairy houses with little paper lanterns decked with tiny silk roses; the very cobbles beneath my feet were sprinkled with cherry petals, soft and sweet and salmon pink, like a thinning blanket of Spring snow; it wafted about with whimsical flair, kicked up from its rest by the swirling skirts of those already dancing; music waltzed like those it accompanied, the school orchestra dressed smartly in pure white against the sinuous curves of their well-polished instruments; as was my suggestion, artisan stands cropped up all over the place, corsages filling the air with a sensuous perfume and food stalls adding to the mix with scents of fine wine and good food. There was nothing that failed to amaze me, other than the fact that I had not yet been bowled over by an especially enthusiastic blonde.

I looked around, peering through the crowd to try and spot any one of my fellow club members. It should have been easy enough to catch sight of that shock of black hair that floated a good number of inches above everyone else's, especially if it came with a tiny blonde teen attached to it, but no matter where I looked I couldn't see a single Host at their own festival. Confused, and still rather overwhelmed by the sheer fanaticism with which they had set up, I wandered around in an almost helpless daze before being knocked again. This time I was spun around completely, and was able to catch a glimpse of something I hadn't noticed before due to the extensive mass of heads barring my vision.

Beneath the coveted central sakura blossom, which bloomed fiercely despite the lateness of season, was a cavalcade of pale blue linen where I could at last see those who I sought out, standing with simple beauty in their matching grey suits, a certain blonde second-year hopping about in front of the enormous camera directed at them and their fabric backdrop. I grinned, pushing my way steadily over to them through the throng. As I drew closer, I began to hear snatches of their conversation above the general hubbub of the place.

"Oh, my sweet little girl! What if she was accosted on the way here? Or mugged? Or kidnapped? Or murdered! Kyoyaaaaa~! I'm worried about our little girl! She said she'd be here, and it's already one minute past five! What ever shall we do!?"

"Of course she's coming, you incongruous sea-sponge - just not especially punctually, it has to be said."

"Only by you, Kyoya-senpai."

"Yeah, lighten up - she'll be here."

"Haru-chan promised she'd come! And Haru-chan never ever, never, ever, _ever_ breaks her promises! _Ne_, Takashi?"

"Ah."

"Yes, but what if she's been - "

"I haven't been molested, senpai," I called, pushing my way through a final layer of guests and they all turned to look at me; I raised a hand in greeting, and Tamaki looked as if he might cry at the sight of me. An instant later he was shouting incoherent phrases in French, having thrown himself on me and seemed to be making an attempt on my life with how tightly he was squeezing me. "At least, not until now -" I managed to choke out, feeling something shift suspiciously inside and hoping against hope that it wasn't a rib popping out of location.

"You look so adorable!" he screamed in my ear, giggling hysterically as he lifted me up in the air and spun me around and around.

"Tamaki, put me down - "

"Kyoya, doesn't she look - "

"_Tamaki _\- "

"Boss, put her down!"

"She's gonna be sick, with the way you're carrying on!"

"Oh, my goodness!" the blonde exclaimed, setting me down and hastily holding to my shoulders as I threatened to keel over backwards; he brushed down my shoulders as an afterthought. "Sorry, little one - but you just looked so - "

"Cute? I get it." I put up a hand to silence him, patting my stomach cautiously. " God... I swear you and my dad are the same person - that is _not _a compliment, Tamaki-senpai," I added in a harsher tone as he threatened to look too happy. It took me a moment to gather myself, even longer to settle my stomach. Finally, I smiled up at them all. "You did a great job setting up."

"So did you," the twins said in unison, looking me up and down and giving me a thumbs up. I raised an eyebrow. "But how come you're... you know." They indicated to all of me. In answer I lifted up dad's ticket and waggled it tantalisingly before Kyoya's scolding face, letting him see the stamp on my hand and the little hole punched through the gold card.

"One free ticket," I said, in a voice smug enough to rival even that of a certain Ootori, "Courtesy of Kyoya-senpai, here."

"That's real generous of you, senpai," said Hikaru.

"Yeah, I thought you'd be working her to the bone tonight," said Kaoru.

"Must have a crush on her," they said to each other in a not-so-subtle whisper.

"Excuse you," Kyoya said loudly, casting them both evil looks, "But I was rather under the impression that I gave that ticket to Ranka-san."

"You did, indeed," I said, smiling. "But dad's not well enough to attend tonight's festivities, so I thought I'd take advantage of the situation..." My eyes slipped to Mori, and I saw the corner of his lip curve upwards fractionally, "...so here I am; stamped and everything. I never once said what I'd be wearing, so you have no cause at all to complain."

"So devious, Haruhi," Kyoya sighed, pushing the glasses up his nose, "I do believe I'm starting to rub off on you."

"You wish," I replied, and I noticed that he smiled. I think he was about to say something in return, but it was then that Tamaki threw his arm about my shoulders.

"It's high time we had a family photo, don't you think!?"

With that I was commandeered forward, right into the centre of the all as Misaki - a very tall girl with long brown hair - beamed from behind the lens, having popped up out of nowhere at the mention of photos. In an instant, the twins had latched themselves to me on either side and were grinning like loons; Tamaki was hugging me from behind with Kyoya smiling beside him, Honey with his arms around me in front; Mori stood at the back, that small smile of his chiselled onto the face like marble. Misaki counted down from three, and then came the blinding flash that accompanied the Host's cheers.

That was the last time we were all smiling together, but I wasn't to realise that until much later in the night.

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 21:36**

**OuranHigh School**

Even after so many hours the magic had not worn away. I couldn't remember a time where I'd enjoyed myself more, and I'd forgotten completely about my troubles. I hadn't worried about dad for a good hour and a half, having sat on a bench by the central sakura, giggling between sips of my bubble tea as the twins (who were currently Hosting the photo booth) pulled the most ridiculous poses they could think of with all the girls that surged forwards to get their picture with them; they were enjoying themselves so completely that it spilled out of them and into me - after a particularly stupid failed attempt at a 'Romeo and Juliet' pose, I spat out my drink onto the hem of someone's dress. Needless to say, I disappeared very quickly once they started shrieking.

Normally I would have apologised, but that night wasn't a normal occasion - I was having too much fun to be badgered by someone who's priceless dress had a stain on it. Hardly the end of the world, was it? I giggled to myself as I stole away.

Soon I had reached the outskirts of the main courtyard where most of the cobbled ground was taken up by couples dancing; I spotted Tamaki waltzing away with inordinate gusto, switching partners every few seconds as girls bustled forward from a vast waiting line that snaked all the way around the courtyard. Hearing a loud bout of giggling above the general noise around me, I turned my head and scanned the crowd to find Honey being fed candyfloss by a number of girls, an enormous plate of cake in his fat little hands. I smiled, before feeling something tap my shoulder. Looking round, I saw that Mori was standing there. My smile widened to a grin.

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Enjoying yourself?"

He nodded.

"And you?"

"Never had so much fun in my life," I conceded, and he smiled. "I'm so amazed - you did such a fantastic job, Mori-senpai!"

"I didn't do anything, really," he shrugged, and I raised my eyebrow. "Just lifted all the heavy stuff, really."

"You did great, don't be so modest," I told him, poking a finger playfully to his chest in mock anger. "You got the photography club to help us in a heartbeat - that was so much work off me, so thanks a bunch." I smiled up at him, and he smiled back with that thin smile of his. Neither of us said anything much for a few moments. Finally, I added in a lower voice, "I'm glad you asked me to come as me. I don't think I would have had this much fun, otherwise."

"No problem," he replied, reaching inside his pocket for what looked like a smallish box. "I figured you'd want one of these, then." He proffered it to me, and I frowned as I lifted off the lid. Inside was a corsage, packed tight but safe, not a petal of the bright red rose crinkled.

"Oh, Mori-senpai..."

"Let me," he said as I picked it up by one of its clean white ribbons.

"Okay."

He tucked the now empty box back away and slipped the flower onto my wrist, tying the sleek ribbon in a bow, fumbling a little because his fingers were so long and large. I smiled awkwardly up at him when he was done, holding out my hand and admiring it - adorned with pink sticker and red petals.

"Thank you, Mori-senpai," I told him, wrapping my arms around his waist in a tight hug; I felt his own enormous hands at my back.

"Oi!" a voice called in my ear, and I looked over my shoulder to see someone trying to get past. "If you're gonna dance, do it where everyone else is!"

"Oh, we're not - "

"Come on, then, Haruhi," Mori said briskly, taking my hand as I pulled away and propelling me forward to where the numerous other couples were waltzing together. A blush formed across my cheeks as I felt his hand at my waist.

"I - I don't know how to dance! At least, not well."

"Then we can looks stupid, together, can't we?" the tall third year offered as we fell into step, and as I looked at him I noticed his smile. I returned it. I didn't mind looking stupid - not if I was with him. Besides, it was rather difficult to appear out of turn when in the company of an acclaimed Ouran Host. Especially the one I felt most comfortable with.

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 22:27**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"Sir!" one of the scientists exclaimed, bursting through the door in a cold sweat.

"What is it now, Akihiko?" Noboru sighed irritably, peeling himself away from the disgusting kisses he'd been forcing himself to take; from one bad thing to the next, he supposed. Cho, rather disgruntled from having been interrupted in what she found to be a compromising position, cleared her throat quickly and fixedly looked away; Akihiko, being only an intern and not at all wanting to cause trouble, averted his own eyes. He ran a hand through his sweaty mop of brown hair.

"Th-there's b-been a - "

"Spit it out, boy!"

The young scientist flinched, fidgeting with his hands.

"A sighting. There's been a sighting - sir!" he added hastily.

"A sighting?" Cho repeated, hands flying to her mouth, her wide grey eyes instantly fixed upon Akihiko.

"Yes, miss," he replied, nodding fervently.

"How many?" Noboru growled, glowering down at the ground.

"What?"

"How many were sighted, you deaf little piece of - "

"Nearly three dozen," the frightened young man jumped to say, instantly regretting it as Noboru's fierce blue eyes set upon him. "F-Forgive me, sir, I didn't mean to - "

"How dare you interrupt me!?" Noboru barked, teeth bared like a rabid dog as an angry froth of saliva burst forth in his anger; Akihiko quailed. "How dare you - when you owe me your very life - you - "

"Jiro!" Cho hastened to grab hold of him, pressing her lips to his cheek in what she thought was a calming kiss - it only made him want to hit her more. He turned his eyes on her, white hot like blue flame. He saw that same old simpering smile on her face, drawn weak with her petty childish fear. "Jiro... Jiro, my love - he didn't mean to - you're just on edge because of the sightings. Nothing more."

_Oh, but there is so much more_, he thought to himself - how much he hated her, for example. Among other things. But then she was shushing him, swaying with him in her hold from side to side as if he were crying infant, causing nothing but an increase in his anger - he looked like an idiot, with this stupid cow rocking him like a child, right in front of the imbecile whose place he was meant to be correcting. _God damn this woman_, he fumed, forcing himself to maintain his composure for her inspection. He just _had _to have been marooned with the world's most docile woman, didn't he? It couldn't have been Sukurima from reception, could it? He thought on her, then, that colossal goddess of a woman - not so much of a face, but, by God, did she have a body. It was only too much like Cho for her not to have suspected a thing to be going on between them, and he knew without thinking who he'd rather spend this 'exile' with - dear Suku had a wonderful knack for screaming. He smiled, and she - being her - returned it, believing him to have been calmed.

"There. See? It's alright - I'm here."

"I know," he replied quietly, putting a hand over hers on his chest. He turned his eyes again to Akihiko, who flinched just a little. "Where were they sighted?"

"Um... n-near a high school in Tokyo."

"Tokyo?" Cho gasped, leaping to her feet and clapping her hands to her cheeks.

"Yes, miss."

"What high school? Tell me!"

"Cho, what is it?"

"I just need to know - "

"O-Ouran Academy, I think it was."

"No!" the young woman shrieked, falling back down onto the sofa and beginning to hyperventilate heavily. "No...!"

"Cho?" Noboru sat down next to her, staring at her in bewilderment.

"Oh, no - no - no - no- no - _no!_"

"My butterfly, what's wrong?"

"My cousin goes there!" she moaned, wrapping her arms around herself and rocking backwards and forwards. She seemed to shrink into herself in her fear, eyes wide and fixed on nothing. "Oh, my God - what if it's too late for him!?"

"I'm sure he's fine, miss - it's late on a school night, why would he be there?"

Cho looked up at Akihiko, almost hopeful - she'd already started losing track of the days in the hysteria of their situation.

"What day is it?" she asked.

"Monday, miss."

"I mean, what's the date?"

"The first - the first of May."

She let out a cry of despair, and buried her face in her hands.

"Cho?"

"The first of May, Jiro!" she whined, voice muffled by the wall of her hands. "It's the annual May Day Festival - it runs all day, until midnight. Damn it all, it's too late!"

"Well, it's an esteemed private academy - I'm sure it's defended well enough," Noboru proffered, trying as best as he could in his exasperation to fill the role of comforter - what did he care if a number of snobbish brats died?

"It's a festival, isn't it? The gates will be wide open - anything could get in, and nobody would think twice about it!"

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 22:43**

**OuranHigh School**

I spent what I think was over an hour with Mori, half of it having been dancing and the other half complaining about getting sore feet from all the dancing. Something that delighted me, however, was that he was starting to get tired - odd as it may sound to be happy when a person gets tired, but I did so love it when he got sleepy. We found a bench to sit on beneath a low-branched tree, and spent a long while chatting about an awful lot despite it being about nothing in particular. Other than that, there was free champagne for the Hosts and their guests which went inordinately quickly, in my case; and, I noticed, in the case of a few others that we watched with interest.

He and I enjoyed ourselves quick vigorously in watching a man, slobbering drunk no doubt, as he milled about the dance floor and randomly chased after couples with his arms out as if to hug them. Soon after he was escorted away, there came another troupe of perhaps six or seven who did almost exactly the same thing. I pointed this out to Mori, who seemed to be every bit as perplexed as I was. He stood up, so I mirrored him, and a few seconds later there came the sound of a boy's scream, and the music faltered before carrying on - but then that stopped too, fading out confusedly.

"What's going on?" I asked him, looking up at the tall third year. He was bristling. "Who's screaming?"

The screams sounded again, along with a kind of snarling. Then, uproar.

"Satoshi...?" Mori asked himself, as more screams ripped the air and people began to stampede.

"Mori-senpai - "

"That's Satoshi!" he shouted, plunging his way forwards through the fray of bodies toward the sound of his brother's screams. I leapt up onto the bench, peering worriedly over the storm of heads. On the dance floor, none too far away, I saw blood flying. The people who'd be ambling about, seemingly drunk, were attacking people, tearing at them with their teeth. Mori was battling it out with one who had hold of a figure I recognised to be his younger brother, blood spilling from his neck as a bite wound festered from his throat.

I screamed, hands clawing at my face as my legs turned to rubber. I collapsed upon the bench, falling half off it as the image of Satoshi's mangled neck flashed before my terrified eyes like an encrypted film. I heard a snarling, a loud gnashing of teeth, and turned my head to see a man covered in blood striding lopsidedly towards me with one leg bent backwards, eyes pearly white and dead-looking. My screams grew louder as he lumbered towards me, hands outstretched and bloodied mouth dripping as it gaped open. I scrabbled backwards, fumbling around for a means to defend myself; he set upon me with a snarl, but I threw him off. His arms reached up the bench and seized my leg, pulling me down, but I screamed all the louder and stamped at his bruised head; the heel of my shoe burst through his eye, connected heavily with the socket, and he howled in enraged agony as purplish blood burst forward and spattered over me. I kicked him away, and he flopped onto the ground, howling; hurrying to my feet, I ran as fast as I could, buffeted by the crowd this way and that.

"Haruhi!" I heard a voice bellow in my ear, and a moment later I'd been pulled into a tight embrace by Kyoya. "Haruhi, thank God you're alright!"

"Senpai, where are the others!?" What's going on!?"

"I don't know!"

"Kyoya! Haruhi!"

"Tamaki!" Kyoya shouted, throwing an arm around the blonde as he burst through the crowd towards us; Tamaki hugged us both, his arms shaking with fear.

"Thank Heavens you're - "

"Look out!" I cried, as a bloodied figure loped towards us, throwing itself forward and almost seizing Tamaki from behind.

"Don't touch our _Tono_, you bastard!" two voices cried, permeating the tumult as two sets of red hair bowled over the beast of a man, beating it down with a pair of blossoming branches they had torn from the sakura tree.

"Hikaru! Kaoru!"

"Who else, you idiot!?" they retorted, still heatedly attacking the creature they pinned down with their feet. "Where's Mori-senpai?"

"I don't - "

"Everyone!" Honey's voice belted, and we turned to see his little blonde head bouncing towards us, his arms held high to support Satoshi's legs as Mori held up his brother's arms. With them was Yasuchika, whose eyes glowed with a frightened menace behind the blood splattered shields of his glasses. "Sato-chan's been hurt - we need to get out of here!"

"You think!?" Yasuchika shouted in his brother's ear, but it wasn't contempt that fuelled his anger - it was fear. Fear for himself, fear for his best friend, and fear for his older brother. For, though he didn't often show it, he was very fond of Mitskuni, and, from the moment he'd been separated from Satoshi and heard his screams, he was terrified that the same might happen to his older brother.

"This way!" Kyoya instructed, seizing my wrist and beginning to pull me away; I hastily grabbed hold of Tamaki, who caught the twins, who held on to Yasuchika, who took a firm grip of Honey's hand. I held on to Tamaki with as much force as I could without hurting him, petrified that I might let go and lose him as the crowd threatened to tear us apart. It was a horrible scramble out of the gates, and I almost lost hold of both Tamaki and Kyoya; the blonde tightened his hold still further, and the boy with black hair reaffirmed his grasp to my hand. I could feel his sweat, his fingers locking firmly with mine as he made sure not to lose me or the others that came behind.

We at last burst through the gates, and Kyoya darted away to the left, pulling us all in his wake. I'd never known him to run so fast, he who was so calm and collected and never went anywhere at a pace faster than a purposeful stride. I could hear him panting, even over the colossal din of the screams that reverberated all around; there were whimpers interspersed between every breath. It was then that I realised that before that night I'd never known him to be afraid.

He led us away, peeling from the crowd and down into a dank side alley that housed an awful lot of trash. He didn't let go of my hand until all of us were within the shallow confines of the dimly lit walls.

"Everyone alright?" he quavered, choking on his own lungs. We all nodded, shaking profusely, as Satoshi writhed about in the third years' hold. I could hear him crying, and it was a truly pitiful noise. "Set him down." Immediately the did so, Yasuchika throwing off his dark blue jacket and bundling it up into a pillow for his best friend.

"Is he - "

"He'll be fine," Kyoya interjected, pushing away the middle-schooler with impatience. The bespectacled second year slipped the brilliant red tie from around his neck, fastening it as a makeshift tourniquet around the collapsed boy's wound; Satoshi coughed weakly, blood bubbling around the corners of his mouth. "Keep pressure on that spot," he instructed Honey, who was the strongest but also had the gentlest hands.

"Got it, Kyo-chan," the small boy affirmed, pressing down on his cousin's neck - it was a good thing the tie was red, for at least the blood was not easily seen. Not knowing where to look, I stared down at my feet. It was then, as my gaze fell upon my bloodstained shoes, that I may have just killed someone, whether they had attacked me first or not. I felt a sickness ride in my throat, and clutched to my stomach as I slumped back against the dirty wall. Had I really just - I clapped a hand to my mouth as it threatened to release a stream of vomit.

"We need to call an ambulance," the twins said, looking feverishly from face to face and then to Satoshi on the ground. Kyoya nodded, whipping out his phone and dialling the number. After a few seconds he exclaimed in irritation.

"The line's completely blocked - we can't be the only ones with casualties. No doubt the police are involved, too."

"Then we should get somewhere safe," I blurted out, and he looked at me. "Someone's house, or something - we can't just stay here, we're completely defenceless!" They all nodded amongst themselves, and Satoshi groaned, raking his nails against the ground and scratching the stone beneath them.

"My house," Tamaki piped up, and we all looked at him. "It's closest, not four streets away. We can take Satoshi there, call our families, regroup." Everyone nodded again, whipping out their phones and dialling numbers, all talking over one another with the same words. It was then that I realised I didn't have my phone with me. When Kyoya put his away I asked if I could borrow it.

"Of course," he said, handing it to me the moment I asked.

"Thank you!" I gasped, feverishly typing in my home number, repeatedly messing up and having to retype from the way my fingers shook. I heard the dull beeping in my ear, waiting on edge for the crackle of air that announced the phone being answered. I waited. And waited. But no answer. Dad was awake, I knew it. He'd be awake right until the second I got home to ask me what happened. Why wouldn't he answer? He couldn't be asleep. Not yet. "Dad... come on... _come on..._" I moaned, pacing backward and forward and stumbling in my anxiety. "Pick up the phone... _pick up the phone_...!"

"Haruhi?" the twins said after two minutes of nothing but silence, and I finally gave up.

"He won't answer. Why won't he answer?" I asked, voice weak and cracking. I stared down at the phone in my hands, fingers trembling. "He has to answer - he's sick, he's not safe at home!"

"I don't know what else we can do," Tamaki said quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I flinched away from him.

"I'll go get him."

"No, you will not!"

"Yes, I will!" he retorted, "He's my father! He's all I have left! I can't just leave him!"

"Can you not see what's going on out there?" the blonde asked me, taking hold of my arms and staring straight into my eyes. "Can you not see what they did to Satoshi? They'll do that to you!"

"They'll do that to dad, too!"

"He's in another part of town! He's safe!"

"No, he's not! I'm going, and that's final!"

"I won't let you!"

"I don't need you to let me, you're not my father! But _he is!_" I pushed him away from me, running out of the alleyway and round the corner, disappearing from sight as they screamed after me.

"Haruhi!"

"Haru-chan, no!"

"What are you doing!?"

"Come back!"

Heard their footsteps following me, and redoubled my efforts to run faster. Their footsteps faded away, save for one. I cast a look over my shoulder to see Mori sprinting after me, his massive strides causing him to easily catch up.

"I'm going and you can't stop me!" I shouted at him.

"I know!" he replied, falling into step beside me. "And I'm coming with you!"

"But you - "

"You saw what those things did to my brother - I'm not letting that happen to your father!"

The one thing we didn't account for at that time was the fact that we were already too late, now running towards an inevitable destruction.


	8. Without a Goodbye

**Monday 1st May 2014, 23:07**

**from Ouran** **High School to the Fujioka Residence**

It was so dangerous, what we did. Fires had started not even two streets from the academy, police sirens wailing all around and people screaming with all the fervour of the plague. My heart pounded in my throat, choking on my own lungs as I ran side by side with Mori, who's eyes were set with a coldness I didn't know if I'd ever seen before. It was an almost cruel expression, a burning anger that set fire to the coals that stared only ahead. What had happened to Satoshi had wounded him, too, the blood searing itself into his mind's eye and blinding him with red. And I was afraid of him, for the first time in my life.

We'd attempted to catch the train, for it was plainly impossible to go by foot, but the idea was crushed the moment we ran into the station; a train was on fire and on its side, glass bursting from the fierce heat and panic alarms bellowing their loudest. But was not to be disheartened; I was not going to give up on protecting my dad, not ever, and I leapt from the platform edge and landed on the tracks. I stumbled, my heels having caught on the gravel; before I could fall Mori had jumped down and had landed beside me, catching me and hoisting me up into his arms.

"I can go faster than the two of us combined," he said as he began to run. I nodded, not wanting at all to object - I couldn't run anywhere in heels. It had taken all my effort to get me to the station alone, which was only four streets from school, and now I began to feel the dull ache that swelled within my feet. It was then, also, that I realised I still had hold of Kyoya's phone which now had sweaty finger stains across the previously immaculate screen.

But I had been right, for - though we were far from Ouran - I could hear screaming. A lot of it. Dad wasn't safe, nor was anyone. We _had _to protect them from... from whatever kind of people that were attacking everyone. Asylum escapees? They could have been, but at the same time they couldn't have been - they wore no straight jackets, nothing. They looked perfectly ordinary, as if some random person on a street had gone insane, infected by madness. They were changed people, whatever they were. Completely and utterly changed. And from the way they attacked Satoshi like that, a boy of fifteen - it was as though they'd lost their very humanity.

* * *

**Monday 1st May 2014, 23:42**

**Fujioka Residence**

It had taken too long to reach home, but I had no cause for complaint - it was, after all, Mori who had taken me there, Mori who had come along to help, Mori whose brother needed him there more than I did. But it was Mori who now understood, most of all I think, what it was like to see someone you care about in a position of true vulnerability. I'd never been so thankful for his company in all my life.

When we reached my home street, I cried out for him to set me down and he obliged. I stumbled from his arms before they had released me, screaming for dad as I sprinted towards my house. Mori followed, but even with his massive strides my determination to reach that little house carried me faster than wind. I threw myself up the steps, three at a time, fumbling for the key to push shakily into the lock as I continued to shout his name. The moment I so much as touched the door it swung slightly open.

"It's... unlocked?" I whispered, freezing with my hand outstretched. "But that's not possible - it locks from the inside every time the door closes... So how...?" I looked up at Mori, who had appeared beside me, and he looked back. There was a spark of fear, renewed at the confusion in my face.

"I don't understand," he told me and I looked back at the door, "But be careful." I nodded, pressing a hand to the rough wood of the door and pushing it. It creaked open, which was odd because it never creaked. It was then that I realised one of the hinges was lopsided and falling off. With mounting dread, I peered round the doorframe and gasped.

My house, my sweet little house, was in uproar. Human scratches clawed the walls with blood trailing from them, the fridge door torn off and sticking half out of the television screen with glass that littered the rug in front of it. The small sofa lay on its side, stuffing spilling out like blood from a wounded animal with a lampshade laying upon it. The door to my bedroom hung off its hinges too, an enormous gash sliced through it as a broken chair hung precariously through it. Above it all was the raw metallic undertone of blood.

"Oh, my God..." I breathed, pushing the door completely open and stepping into the room. "Oh... my... God..." Kyoya's phone fell from my fingers and clattered against the hard wood floor, a crack slicing itself across the screen. Fear pumped my heart like a jackhammer, and I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. My hands were at my open mouth, eyes wide as I stepped about, treading on broke glass and splayed newspapers. "Oh, my _God_..."

"What the hell happened here?" Mori's voice came from behind me, low and cold and dangerous. I turned to look at him, his eyes cold as stone as they fixed upon the bloody handprints on the wall.

"Dad..." I choked out, feeling tears in my eyes. "_Dad..._"

I staggered about, making my way fearfully towards his bedroom door.

"Please... please be in here...! Dad, please!"

"Haruhi - "

"He's..." I had put out a hand to take the doorknob, but then I had heard a groan from inside and a loud rasping breath. "He's in here - Mori-senpai, he's here!"

"Haruhi, I wouldn't - "

"Dad!" I threw the door open, not knowing what I would find but it was nothing like what I could have imagined. I screamed.

"Haruhi!" Mori raced forwards and threw himself in front of me, throwing out his arms and taking solid footing to protect me from whatever it was I had seen. "Oh, my God..."

Slowly, with more heavily rasping breaths, a man I no longer recognised raised his head and stared at us through blank, white eyes. He was on the bed, crouched over a large female figure, blood dripping from his mouth. It was then, with a petrified gasp, that I recognised our landlady as she lay like a slaughtered cow upon the bloody mattress.

"Dad..." I whispered, feeling a horribly cold emptiness growing like mould in the pit of my stomach. For a moment, everything was still. Then, dad let loose a hideous, animalistic snarl, his red teeth bared and hands outstretched as he leapt towards us from the bed. Mori threw the door shut, seizing my hand and tugging me after him as he made for the front door.

"Run!" he shouted, but I was too stunned to move or even think.

"But dad - "

"That man isn't who he used to be!" the third year retorted, just as the figure with long red hair burst through the weak wood of the door and raced after us like a beast on all fours.

"But he's - "

"Trying to kill us!"

I cried out in pain as I felt a hand grasp my hair, tugging me away from Mori with a strength I knew my father did not possess.

"Haruhi!" Mori turned and delivered a roundhouse kick to the redhead's red head, causing it to loosen its grip on me. I tried to squirm free as it fell to the floor, but it managed to seize both of my legs and topple me with it. I hit the ground with an almighty crash, my head slamming against the seat of a half-destroyed chair with a painful _crack_. "Get off of her!" the third year bellowed, throwing him off me as it bared its teeth with a snarl.

"Mori-senpai - " I cried as he tried to pull me to my feet, but I had gone limp in my fear and was unable to move.

"It's okay," he told me, still trying to get me to stand, "I've got you - come on, we have to get - _get off her!_" For the redhead was already upon his feet once more, hunched and unsteady like an animal on its hind legs, lurching towards me and grabbing hold of my wrist. Mori let go of me, and I fell back to the floor like a rag doll, the two men grappling with one another like bears. Their strength seemed evenly set, one fierce and the other frightening; Mori grit his teeth while the other gnashed them wildly, rasping hoarsely and spitting flecks of blood into the third year's grimacing face. But soon it became apparently that Mori was actually the weaker of the two, and he was being pushed lower and lower by the beast of a man that wrestled with him, until it reached the point where he was on the ground, struggling with all his strength to keep those blood red teeth from ripping him apart, the figure bearing down on top of him with hair wild about his face.

"Haruhi..." Mori grunted, stretching his neck as far as it would go to keep his face from being set upon. "Help - I can't - _Haruhi_ \- " But I was too scared to move, tears pouring from my eyes as I lay sprawled on the ground with the chair leg digging into my back. When I didn't respond his eyes turned on me, wide and alight with fear. "_Haruhi! Please! Help me!_" My lip trembled, nearly blinded by the tears but still I could see the terror I had never known to possess the third year. Though my strength was almost gone, I pulled myself up onto my knees. "_Haru - hi_ _-_" I seized the jagged chair leg from behind me and staggered upright, stumbling toward the two fighting mere feet from the front door. I raised the wood high above my head, arms valiantly shaking.

"Don't touch him!" I shouted, and as the beastly figure looked up at me I smacked his bruised and bloodied face with the implement in my grasp, the force of my swing propelling him out the door and onto the balcony. Mori lurched to his feet, striding out the door and engaging once again with the man who had also regained his footing. This time Mori threw his opponent back, holding him by his throat against the ramshackle iron railing; I heard it creak, but he did not. "Mori-senpai, don't, it's too rusted!" I cried as he pushed him further and further back, but it was too late; the railing gave way, snapping in two and bringing the two males down with it. They seemed to fall in slow motion, but my hand seemed to move even slower as it reached towards them. Somehow, by a hair's breadth, I managed to grab hold of Mori's jacket. But I was pulled down too, slammed into the balcony floor by gravity's unruly strength, and it took everything I had to hold on despite the feeling that my shoulder had been ripped from its socket.

"Haruhi!"

"Are you alright?" I asked as I peered over the edge of the iron grating to where the third year hung, suspended, fifteen feet from the ground. He wasn't looking up at me, rather down at the ground in an austere silence. I lay flat on my stomach, reaching down my other hand for him to take. "Mori-senpai! Come on!"

"Thanks... " he said, and I began to try and pull him up. It took an inordinate amount of strength, and somewhat of a miracle, but I managed it. The moment his feet touched solid ground he collapsed to his knees upon it beside me, breathing heavily and putting a hand over his eyes. We didn't say anything for a while. "I'm sorry..." he said finally. I looked at him, and he lowered his hand. I saw he was crying a little bit. "I - I said I wouldn't let him get hurt like Satoshi did, but..." He looked down over the grating, and I did too. Instantly, my eyes dilated. I hadn't been able to see it before, with Mori's massive form obstructing my view of the ground, but now I could see it perfectly, illuminated by the light of the street lamp. My father was laying on his back upon the ground, one of the rusted iron railing posts jutting at and upwards angle out of his skull, piercing the spot right between his milky white eyes.

My scream was that of one thousand nails on a blackboard, the horrendous cry of a creature that has lost everything it had ever known. The bloodied image burned itself into my eyes, the last thing I saw before everything went black.

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 00:31**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt.** **Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"I'm sorry, but the person you are trying to call is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later or leave a message after the tone."

"Damn you!" Cho wailed, throwing the phone away in her frustration. It clattered against the floor and skidded into the wall, where it lay with every aspect of the deadness that was now eating away at the young woman's hope. "How many times have I called, now!? It's been nearly an hour - oh, what's going on!?"

"My butterfly, calm down..." Noboru tried to shush her, seizing her in an uncomfortable embrace with his hands tight about her; he wondered if he kept a firm hold he might choke her into silence. She collapsed into him, hoping that his hold would offer any kind of comfort that she usually found in them but she was mistaken. Worry had struck hard in her chest, and she could feel the pounding of her heart. She began to cry, winding her arms around her beloved.

"Why won't he answer, Jiro?" the girl sobbed, clenching her eyes tight shut against the sting of her salty tears. "I have to know that he's safe! Why...? Why do bad things always happen to good people? Why did this have to happen to us? And you, of all people..."

Noboru resisted the heavy urge to roll his eyes at her stupidity - he'd as soon as fall in love with her than acknowledge that he was a good person. He was degenerate, and he revelled in it; rules are all very well and good for the public eye, but wasn't it just so much more fun to do what he wanted? He'd lost count of the women, the swindling, the gambling, the blackmailing and all other violent excitements he'd done in his life. He had not, however, forgotten the chains that his dear Suku were so fond of. Though nothing, nothing at all, was sweeter than watching the light fade from the eyes of those he despised.

In his life, Jiro Noboru had killed just one person, and it had mostly been by accident. Mostly. But who would ever have thought a child capable of murder? Much less that of his own sister? His beloved twin sister, the darling of the family, that all who met her adored. But they had adored her too much. They had forsaken him, his brilliance, for the sweetness of her little blonde curls and cherubic singing. He couldn't recall a memory that stirred him more than the fear of her bright brown eyes as she struggled to pull herself from the freezing water, fingers slipping on the ice as her brother watched her, laughing, with a rock raised above his head. He'd run home after that, crying with a terrified fervour that his sister had fallen through thin ice while they were skating.

Cho gave another nonsensical wail, and Noboru suppressed a sigh of aggravation. He wished he could kill her now and end his infernal suffering, and he would have done if he didn't need her to create the antidote for him. His patience however, as it would in a situation such as he was in, was wearing thin - it would take only a little more for him to have need to dispose of her. And wouldn't it just be so very... satisfying?

He'd done it once. He could do it again.

And people got in accidents all the time...

* * *

****Apologies for the short chapter, I sort of fell apart halfway through writing this ;_;**


	9. Look At Me

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 01:28**

**Unknown location**

I was pulled to my senses by the insensible buzz of agitated voices. There was a horrendous pain pulsating from the side of my head, no doubt where I had fallen, and a terrible ache from both my arms and legs. My feet, I could feel, were now bare and slightly damp as though they had been washed - or something of the sort. My hands felt cold and clammy, shaking occasionally upon my lap where they lay. There was a nasty sort of stickiness about my chest, something pungent and discomforting seeped into my clothes. There were the dregs of a horrible taste still stuck in my mouth.

I slowly opened my eyes, finding they felt very sore and hot.

"Oh, thank God..." a voice gasped, and I heard several people sigh with relief. I blinked a number of times in order to focus my bleary vision. There were four people with their heads bent over me, two with red hair, one with black and one with blonde. I thought for a moment that the one with black hair was Mori, but realised it wasn't once I saw the momentary flicker of light against Kyoya's glasses. At the thought of Mori a sickening image suddenly flashed through my head.

I bolted upright and was almost sick, clapping a hand to my mouth as I remembered; the boys withdrew their heads in shock, Tamaki falling to the floor.

"Haruhi, what's - "

"Dad...!" I whispered hoarsely through my hand, staring straight ahead in horror. "Oh my God... _Dad_..." Already I had begun to cry, trying desperately not to start screaming again. Black spots appeared on my vision from my sudden movement and I collapsed again onto the sofa I lay upon, covering my face with my hands and breathing heavily. "Oh my God..."

Nobody said anything.

The more I tried to get his image out of my head the harder it became to keep it out, and the more vividly I could see it. The blood, the eyes, the railing. The sounds of that inhuman scream. Why? _How?_

What could possibly have happened? What!?

"Haruhi..." I heard Kyoya whisper, and I felt one of his surprisingly warm hands touch my shoulder. "Haruhi..." Slowly, very slowly, I parted my fingers so that my frightened brown eyes could stare through the slits. I whimpered involuntarily. The twins exchanged glances above my head, and Tamaki tried to offer an encouraging smile. I looked away from them all, gazing blankly at the ceiling. It was a ceiling I would never have recognised, with ornate wood panelling and roses carved into the mahogany.

"Where am I?" I finally managed to ask, voice barely audible over the heaviness of my breaths.

"My house," Tamaki explained gently, and I looked at him. "You're safe, it's okay. Nobody will be able to get in here." I nodded slowly. It took a moment for me to find words within the swarm of my mind.

"How... did I get here?"

"Mori-senpai carried you back," he said. "You passed out. He explained about... what happened." They exchanged glances before looking away from me.

"He carried me here...?"

"Yeah."

"He..."

"We tried to send a car," Kyoya continued, looking over his shoulder at something I couldn't see, "but we didn't know whether you'd ever got there, where you were. You'd taken my phone so we tried calling, but that failed too." It was then that I remembered how I had dropped his phone, how it no doubt had been left there, ringing helplessly against the floor of a ransacked, hollow house.

"Kyo..." I wasn't even strong enough to finish saying his name, let alone the rest of my apology. Tears welled afresh in my eyes as he looked over to me, fixing me with an imperious stare. But it was not an angry stare, or cold like his usual expression. It was warm, and gentle. A look a parent might give a child that had miraculously escaped harm. A look of relief, mingled with weary affection. He shook his head fractionally as if in disproval, pursing his lips as though he were unsure of whether to offer a smile. It looked almost as though he might cry. But he didn't, only said, in a quiet voice, "You had us so worried, Haruhi - please don't do anything like that again..."

The look in his eyes reduced me still further into tears, but at last I relinquished the biting hold of my face, struggling to sit up so I could look at them better. After a moment or two I stared down at my lap, my hands clasping tightly together, thumbs writhing in discomfort. I noticed the trail of vomit down my front.

"I'm sorry..." I whimpered, letting out a quite choke as my tears intensified, rolling swiftly down my cheeks and splashing onto my once-white skirt. "I'm sorry..."

"Haruhi - "

"I'm sorry I ran off - "

"Please!"

"Haruhi, don't!"

"_I'm sorry!_"

"Haruhi, don't apologise!" they all said, all four of them rushing to be first to throw their arms around me to quiet me. I broke down completely once more, wrapping my arms around the nearest body and pulling them as close to me as I could, burying my face to their shoulder as I cried. I felt them do the same, their grip as strong as it was able to be; I could feel his glasses digging into my neck, but the dull pain was like comfort, reminder of his encouraging presence.

It was then that I realised the last thing dad had ever said to me was 'I love you'.

"I love you..." I whispered back too late, in a voice so low that only one person besides me was able to hear it. Before then I'd been wrong, because I found that Kyoya was able to pull me closer still, with an unrelenting grip that didn't end even after the four boys had released me.

"Are you alright?" Hikaru asked me in a low voice once they had let me go. I mopped at my eyes and dug out the tears with my knuckles, sniffing repeatedly and wringing out my hands in an attempt to calm me down. I didn't feel up to a verbal response, instead nodding my head vigorously and letting out a very long breath to lower my heart rate to something vaguely resembling that of an ordinary human being - at the moment it felt something like nine hundred beats per minute...

"I'm okay..." I finally managed to say, and Kaoru ruffled a hand through my hair. I smiled feebly at him, before rubbing at my eyes once more. I then heard a groan, and noticed the chatter that had been going on all this time. I looked over to its source, and saw a number of people crowded around an enormous four poster bed. I recognised three of them as being the other two Hosts and Yasuchika, the others being three middle aged men. These men were blocking my full vision of the bed, but I could tell by the way that the boys looked at it I knew who lay upon it. "How's Satoshi...?"

Tamaki turned his head to look over and then looked back with a grim expression.

"Not so well."

"Has anything else happened since... I mean, he can't be worse, can he?"

"Yeah... he can..." the twins conceded, fixing their eyes upon Mori. "Why else would he be looking like that?" I followed their gaze to the tall third year, and the empty way in which he looked down at his brother on the bed. He seemed not at all to notice anything else, not the encouraging words of his tiny cousin - who tugged repeatedly on his arm to get him to come away - not the poorly-concealed sniffs of Yasuchika, nor the way in which the men addressed him, and nor the way that the five of us stared at him when he normally was so uncomfortable with people's eye being upon him. There was a distinct deadness in the way that he stood, lank and unmoving, jaw set with worry and eyes straight upon the moaning figure that consumed his attention. There was blood all up his arms and upon his hands, congealed and brown and a bruise at his neck from where hands had grappled at it not so many hours ago. He had not deigned to wash, to do nothing at all but pay mind to his brother. I'd never seen such fear in his eyes as I did now.

Seeing him in such a state made my heart sink. I wanted nothing more now than to comfort him. My legs were heavy, feeling dead as I tried to swing them down from the sofa.

"Haruhi?" the twins said questioningly. Not answering them I pushed myself to my feet, almost falling down again from how unsteady I was; Tamaki and Kyoya leapt up and caught me, holding me up from either side; Hikaru and Kaoru scrambled over the back of the sofa and put hands against my back.

"Haruhi, you need to rest," Kyoya told me, trying to put me back down onto the seat.

"No," I mumbled feebly, trying to wrest myself from his grip. "I've rested enough, Kyoya-senpai."

"No, you really haven't," he argued back, exchanging glances with Tamaki to sway him. "Come on, sit back down."

"No!"

"Haruhi."

"I want to see Satoshi!" I lied, struggling now against the pair of second years as they attempted to reseat me. "I want - I have to see him!

"What you need to do is - "

"Tamaki, please!" I said, tears trembling at my voice again as I set my eyes against his bright blue ones. "Please..." I said again, and his efforts to set me down subsided slightly. "Please..." He looked over at Kyoya, then at the twins, to the bed and finally back to me. He didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"How could a father argue with his daughter when she's in such a state?" he asked, locking eyes with Kyoya over my head. The word 'father' made my heart twinge painfully in my chest, as though it were tying itself up in knots. I stared down at the floor, feeling distinctly numb. "Mommy, look at her, we can't just force her to do anything she doesn't want to - you know what she's been through tonight as well as any of us..."

"Precisely why she needs to rest," Kyoya replied adamant as ever, but still he had stopped trying to push me down. Tamaki looked at the twins.

"She can rest when she wants to, Kyoya-senpai," Kaoru added, and Hikaru nodded. "Right now she just needs to figure herself out. She's been through more than any of us could handle."

"And she's done remarkably well, considering..." Hikaru trailed away. He looked sideways at his brother, and Kaoru returned his gaze. "I mean, I don't know what I'd do if - "

"Shut up, right now!" Kaoru cried, grabbing his twin and dragging him into a bone-crushing embrace. "Don't even think of that - just shut up right now, you idiot! That's not ever happening!"

"I know, I'm sorry!" the elder Hitatchiin responded, gripping his brother tighter. "I'm sorry, Kaoru!"

"You bloody well should be!"

None of us really said anything, until Tamaki looked once again to Kyoya.

"She can rest later, Kyoya," he said quietly, rubbing a hand up and down my arm in a comforting manner. "Just see how she goes. She's stronger than you know." I looked up at the dark-haired second year as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Please, Kyoya..."

He looked at me hard for a few moments.

"You know, that's the first time you've called me by my name without an honorific," he said, and I noticed the faintest of smiles upon the corner of his mouth, "This must be important, then." With that he let go of me, and gestured slightly toward the bed. I don't think he expected me to hug him, but I did.

"Thank you," I mumbled into his chest, before hastily pulling myself away and walking attentively over to the other party. Honey noticed me as I stepped closer.

"Haru-chan," he whispered meekly, coming over to me and taking my hand. He pressed his face to me and I put my other hand around his head and stroked his hair. I could feel the wetness of his cheeks soaking through my skirt. "Sato-chan's hurt real bad..."

"I know," I said quietly, gripping a little tighter to his fat pink hand. I could feel he was shaking. "I know, Honey-senpai. But he's going to be okay..." At these words, out the corner of my eye, I saw Mori turn clench his fists with renewed vigour. I looked up at him. He wasn't crying. Maybe he was past that point, but now I saw up close the unnerving fear behind those dark, dark eyes. I looked down momentarily to the small boy in front of me, and said gently, "Come on, Honey-senpai... I want to see him..."

"Mmhmm..." Honey sniffled, peeling himself away from me and leading me around to the bed where I stood beside Mori. My eyes turned themselves onto Satoshi's pathetic form, pale and green as a mouldy sheet of paper. His breaths were uneven, sharp and shallow, like a boy drowning on the very air that kept him alive. His neck, I could see, was raw and red, still somehow oozing blood, thick and so dark it was almost purple. His fingers gripped the bed sheets, knuckles white and contorted as a gnarled old tree. He flinched every few seconds, groaning incoherently, with his eyes clenched tight and sweat soaking his every inch. Bent over him was one of the men, who had greying black hair and a defined stone-like quality to his face. He had a stethoscope pressed to Satoshi's chest, staring incredulously at his watch.

"That's not right..." he kept muttering to himself, staying in that same position for more minutes than should be necessary, repeatedly removing his stethoscope and examining it as if for faults. I'd been stood there for almost ten minutes, unable at all to look away, as if mesmerised by the bloody torment. Tamaki and Kyoya had joined the unhappy party, conversing in sombre undertones to the unoccupied men; one I presumed to be Tamaki's father, for the boy had his arm around him in worry, and the other I knew without question to be Satoshi's. The fear in his eyes was the same as Mori's. The twins had vanished, escaped by themselves to somewhere unknown, unable to be around other people in that time.

"That's not right...!" the man I surmised to be Mr. Ootori finally cried in exasperation, pushing up his rectangular glasses and straightening up. He removed the buds from his ears and slung the equipment from his neck.

"Yoshio?" Tamaki's father asked. Yoshio Ootori turned to him, shrugging irritably.

"How is it possible for a heart rate to be almost five hundred beats per minute?" the old doctor questioned, and everyone looked at him in shock. "To consistently be so high for so long? Five hundred beats and counting! I just don't understand it..."

Beside me I felt Mori stiffen, and looked at him to see his jaw set still harder, a shine in his eyes. It was taking all he had not to cry, for I think we all knew that he was helpless; his only stronghold was to refuse belief of such a fact. It is hard, however, to refuse something when the facts are so incontrovertible. I turned my head down and saw his hand was shaking convulsively. I reached out my own hand and took his, slipping my fingers through his and clenching tight. He didn't look at me, didn't make the slightest notion as to acknowledge what I'd done. I knew that he was unable to look at me, he couldn't risk seeing in my eyes the pain he had incurred - he had killed my father, whether he was what he was or not, and he knew it. I realised it was an accident, that perhaps it was the only choice, but still he could not look at me. He was afraid to look at me. And the idea of that ripped my heart in two.

* * *

_Once again, I must humbly apologise for both the shortness of chapter and its incredible lateness - I started a newer and much more difficult school year (in the US, I believe that it is high school junior year) and in the UK it's pretty damn intense and right now I get 20 hours of homework a week, so that leaves very little time for writing. I fully intend to get back into the swing of things as soon as I can, but for now updates may be just a little more spaced apart. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read this story, especially those who leaves reviews, and I'm tremendously sorry for breaking a coupe of hearts with the previous chapter ;)_

_Stay awesome, guys_

_\- L_


	10. Brother Mine

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 03:27**

**Suoh** **Family** **Mansion**

Even so much later, Mori had not dared fall asleep, even though everyone else had succumbed to its embrace, including the austere Yoshio Ootori and all the other adults about the enormous house. Honey and Yasuchika lay next to each other, the little blonde boy gripping tighter to his younger brother than he did his pink bunny rabbit; Tamaki had taken to the cushions on the floor, Kyoya upon the sofa; the twins were curled up together a few feet way, twitching occasionally and sniffling under their breath. Vague shimmers down their cheeks told that they had been crying, still not dried from the hours before.

The parents had congregated to sleep throughout the building, even the Morinozuka head. But not his son. Not Mori. For he stood beside me, ever the same, gripping still tightly to my hand even after all these hours. I didn't even know whether he realised it anymore. There was tiredness and torment screaming behind his eyes, and he swayed upon the spot with dizziness as his exhausted body battled against the outlandish terror of his mind. I'd never seen such worry in a person before, let alone within him.

I didn't want to sleep, didn't want to leave him the only one awake while his only brother lay before him in such a state; a state that seemed to deteriorate with every passing hour. When before he had been sickly and greenish, now his skin was grey and darkening in purple patches that traced the stem of his veins. They popped like blackish wires against his deathlike skin, pumping blood still to the wound that seemed to refuse to congeal, half the sheet of Tamaki's bed now saturated in the dark liquid that heartlessly continued to ooze like poison from his neck. Satoshi did not sleep either, only staring - tortured - at the ceiling above him, eyes bloodshot and those dark irises whitening as though slowly he were going deathly blind. He blinked less and less often, until the time between each close of his eyes had become far too long to be anything at all but wrong. His hands, shaking, continued to grip the sheets that now were soaked scarlet with such a force that it seemed his fingers were frozen like that, never to be removed from the acrid-smelling silk. His breath was like that of a rabbit, quick and short, hoarse and dry in his throat.

The sight of him still had not accustomed within my mind, the second most horrific thing I'd ever seen. The first had been more traumatic by far, but still this had reduced me to tears the last few hours. And still, outside the large French window, I could hear sirens. Endless, endless sirens. Near and far, ambulances, firemen and police all together. A wailing cacophony of despair and fear. I couldn't imagine how any of us could have been asleep, not while such a caterwauling of human terror raged just beyond the walls that shielded us from... whatever it was we needed shielding from. Those monsters within men, whether it was them or not. Those monsters that had taken him with them...

At the thought of him, again, at the sight of what he'd been - at the thought that I _never _would see him again, like that or otherwise - my tears renewed. Again. It was a wonder I had any tears left. Or how the room had not flooded with them. I'd given enough for Noah's Ark to sail upon. But not even that safe haven could save me from that memory. I far would have preferred to drown in that purge.

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 04:32**

** Suoh** **Family** **Mansion**

Despite all my efforts, I was beginning to fade fast. I was barely able to keep my eyes open. I'd been leaning into Mori for an amount of time I couldn't fathom, my head resting against his arm for I was too short to reach his shoulder. His body was hard, stiffened, completely different to its usual touch or warmth and surprising gentleness. But still I held his hand, though my fingers now were lax with weariness.

I could hear the poignant rhythm of Satoshi's quickened breaths, like the flap of a hummingbird's wings, until suddenly I didn't hear them. They stopped. And Mori's hand suddenly convulsed like a bear trap.

I looked up.

The boy's hands had let go of the sheets, limp and now unshaking. He did not move at all. And, as I had not see them for the longest time, his eyes were closed.

Mori took a half step forward, his knees against the edge of the bed.

"Satoshi...?" he croaked, his voice dry and breaking a little.

The figure did not move.

"Satoshi?" Mori relinquished his hold of me, crawling hurriedly onto the mattress and kneeling over his younger brother. I didn't dare say anything, not even sure of where to look now. "_Satoshi?_" The third year touched a large hand to the middle schooler's cheek, bowing his head. I saw his back shudder as he let out a long, broken breath.

"I..." My voice almost failed. "I'm sorry..." I broke down crying, stumbling back and pressing up against one of the bed posts. Mori didn't look at me. "I'm so... _sorry._.." I slid down to the floor, collapsed with the side of my head against the mattress and my legs splayed at different angles.

Above me I could hear the third year crying.

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 05:19**

**Suoh** **Family** **Mansion**

I don't know exactly when I fell asleep, but I had. It's easy to forget when you slip into it from sorrow.

I was awoken suddenly by a noise, like that of a floorboard creaking. Immediately I felt pain, an ache all through my body; my neck bent uncomfortably as my head pushed against the bed post, one leg crossed beneath me and the other collapsed, askew. I was cold, too, in contrast to the continuous burning of my eyes as I shivered, rubbing my hands up and down my bare arms, twitching my sockless feet. I heard the noise again and turned my head toward the door. It was open, when before - despite paying very little attention all evening - I was sure it had been closed. A thin stream of light lit up the floor, ending a foot or so from me.

Shakily, I pushed myself up to my feet; I staggered a moment and had to steady myself, bent over the mattress like a toddler, taking a few deep breaths to avoid black stars blurring across my already hazy vision as blood rushed to my head. After a few moments I straightened up, letting loose a long sigh. The room was much darker than before I had fallen asleep - the lights, which had been dimmed for the others to go to sleep, had been turned off completely. I squinted against the bitch blackness, not sure what I was looking for. I saw the pale outline of Tamaki's blonde head, and beside him the white cushions of the sofa where Kyoya lay. And I knew that none too far away slept the twins, for I could hear their soft synchronised snores. I could see the smaller silhouettes of the Haninozuka boys too. Turning my eyes back to the bed beside me, I saw the covers had been thrown off and that Satoshi's body was gone. I looked again to the door, knowing only too well the recluse Mori sought for this trauma. It was little wonder he had not wanted to stay, not wanted his friends to wake up to see...

What a weight that must have been, to carry one so young and so dear. For after all, the smallest coffins weigh the most. I just wondered where he could have taken him. Before I could think, there it was again. That noise. Slightly further away than it had been before.

I tiptoed over to the door, pressing myself up against the wall and looking up and down the corridor outside. It was dimly lit, a few ornate candlesticks glistening as lavender scented candles burned low within them, occasionally extinguishing themselves in the envelopment of their own molten wax, making the landing steadily darker and darker. I would have retreated back, thought it was just the house settling or whatever rational reason it could have been, but then I heard again the noise, and then again in dull succession.

Footsteps.

It was footsteps, shuffling and unsteady.

Like that of a broken creature with no mind of its own anymore, roaming helpless and sorrowful. Like that of a third year that very suddenly leapt into my mind. My affection for him instantaneously diminished any plan of retreating, thinking it better to have comfort than to cry alone. Pushing the door a little more open, I slipped out quietly and shut it again slowly, not wishing to disturb anyone within.

I paused in the middle of the landing, which I saw was a large square with four corridors railed with mahogany and gold as it overhung the entrance hall below, which I could see in the dim light was of polished white marble. In my hesitation I placed a hand upon the railing, listening hard for the source of the noise.

It came from directly opposite, and I crept around the landing to the far side, keeping close to the wall so as to see better. This did little however, so I stopped midway and blew out a candle against the wall before wiggling it free of its stick and relighting it on its neighbour's sputtering flame. Holding the candle before me I proceeded slowly so as not to let the fire die, finally making it to where I wished to be. There were two doors, the one on my right being quiet when I put my ear to it, save from the sound of a person breathing, most likely asleep. From this I presumed him to be in the room to the left.

I lifted a hand and tapped my knuckles very softly against the door, just loud enough for that somebody to hear.

"Mori-senpai..." I whispered, reaching for the handle and gently pulling it open, ever so slightly in order for my to peer inside. I could vaguely see the outline of a standing figure, but it was far too dark to see properly. "Mori-senpai...?" I pulled the door further open and held out the candle to spread its gentle light. The room now flittered in a pale yellow glow, and I saw better the silhouette of a boy with black hair.

The figure let out a long, low moan, and a shiver at the back of my neck told me that something was wrong.

"Mori-senpai?" I said again, squinting against the gloom. I took a step into the room and a floorboard creaked. The boy turned, shuffling and unsteady, and his black haired head dropped with a characteristic deadness, and in the gleam of the candlelight I saw white eyes staring right through me.

But it was not the boy I sought.

It was, rather, the other Morinozuka - the one I had witnessed die.

I screamed.

"_Mori-senpai!_"


	11. When the Dog Bites

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 05:24**

**Suoh** **Family** **Mansion**

I heard shouts, and in that moment it felt as though my heart had stopped.

And time. Time stopped.

It stopped like the life flushed from Satoshi's dead white eyes, now staring at me through a milky daze. I felt a searing cold rush through me in my horror, hairs bristling on every inch of my skin, my grip on the candle in my hand slackening completely as I lost all control of every sense. It fell, and me with it.

The boy took a shaky step towards me, and then another, his head lolling over one shoulder like a rag doll. Petrified, I was unable to move.

Then the next door down burst open, and a figured skidded out, almost hitting the banister.

"Haruhi!" the third year yelled. "Haruhi!" Unable to see the horror beyond the door I faced, Mori threw himself over me and pulled me to my feet, checking me over frantically for wounds. He seized my face in his two enormous hands, eyes locked to mine in fear. "What is it, what's - "

"What's going on? Is my daughter - "

"Takashi - "

"Why's everyone - "

"It's..." I barely had a voice to speak, but when I saw the creature behind Mori raise it's arms to attack, I grabbed the third year and threw him to the ground with me on top of him. He cried out as he hit the hardwood floor, as his former brother lurched forward and crashed into the banister.

"Who is that!?" Tamaki cried.

"You idiot," Kyoya muttered to himself as he reached past the blonde to hit the light switch. The massive crystal chandelier above erupted into light, as the creature howled. A sickening, garbled, inhuman howl that made bile ride in the back of your throat. There were running footsteps from the floors above, the Host's parents and Suoh staff leaning out from the banisters and staring at us.

"My God..." It reared it's head, and as I felt Mori try and sit up beneath me I tried to keep him down. "It's - "

"Satoshi...?" Mori whispered, disbelieving. Upon hearing it's name, the changed boy turned it's limp head to us on the ground beneath it's blue-tinged feet. It stared at us, through us, foam dripping slowly from its mouth. I could hear the horrible quickness of Mori's heart beneath me. Then, suddenly, it lunged at us, and Honey screamed.

"Takashi! Haru-chan!"

The Hosts were all sprinting round, and soon were there, throwing the gnashing creature from us, pulling us to our feet; Tamaki and Kyoya pushed me back behind them. the latter holding his arms protectively in front of me. The boy staggered back, hitting against the wall and snarling. He bared his teeth, milk white eyes set on our small party. I could hear shouts from above and footsteps as the adults rallied toward the stairs.

It came for us again, seizing Hikaru by the arm and attempting to throw his teeth about his neck, but Kaoru yelled out in fury and began to grabble with the creature.

"Kaoru!" his twin yelled, rushing to his aid. But even with both of them combined, they were barely strong enough to even maintain its arms; they soon both were discarded down, Hikaru's head knocked against the wall with such force he stopped moving.

"Satoshi, stop this!" Tamaki cried as he was set upon, his back thrown against the wall, the air blown out of him. "Sato - "

"That's not Satoshi, anymore!" I grabbed Hikaru from the ground as Kaoru struggled to lift him, helping him away down the landing toward the staircase to the entrance hall. "Just run!"

"I - "

"Do what she says!" Mori interrupted, seizing Tamaki and ripping him out from beneath the creature's clutches; he dragged the blonde after us, Kyoya and Honey following as quick as they could. The Morinozuka boy roared again and tried to pursue, but was floored by Honey who leapt up off the banister and delivered a succession of powerful kicks to the head.

"What do you mean, he's not Satoshi anymore?" Kyoya hurried to say as we scrambled down the stairs, Hikaru's head bobbing up and down as we carried him between us.

"Like dad - I - he - "

"Those weird people at the festival," Kaoru surmised, "It's something to do with them, right?"

"I think so. They've changed, and - "

The thing made a swipe for me and snatched my leg from beneath me. I screamed, ripped back from and forced face down onto the stairs, cracking my forehead against the marble. Stars burst before my eyes from the sheer shock, let alone the pain. I was being pulled forcefully backward, but my hands scrabbled about and grabbed hold of the corner rung of the banister, and I clung on for dear life. I could hear the snarls of the creature holding me, and I kicked as hard as I could to release myself from its vice-like grip.

"My daughter!"

"Haruhi!" Kyoya let go of Hikaru and raced back up the stairs to get to me, "Let her go!" Grabbing the black-haired boy, he tackled him down and yelled at me, "Go! Now!"

"Kyoya!" I didn't move, unable to, both out of fear and the debilitating pain of my head, petrified as I watched him struggling against the creature's inhuman force. "Kyoya, you have to - "

"_Go!_"

"No, you go!" a voice cried, and I looked up to see Yoshio Ootori leading the train of adults toward us, dressing gown billowing behind him. He pulled his youngest son to his feet and shoved him away toward the stairs. "Don't even think about staying behind, you proud little - "

"I - "

"_You_," his mother said fiercely, "will get away from here right now, or so help me - "

"Come on!" I shouted at him as he tried to argue, having pulled myself to my feet and grabbed his hand. "Kyoya!" I tugged earnestly on his arm, and he looked at me, then at my hand around his.

"We'll handle this, son," Yoshio said, as Yuzuru Suoh pinned down the creature. "Stop being so proud, and get out of here."

Kyoya nodded, starting to pull away with me. "I - "

There was a scream, and we looked down to see Tamaki flailing.

"What is it?" Mrs. Hitatchiin cried.

"They - the ones from - "

"They're all out there!" Honey said fearfully, stepping back from the enormous front doors. "The ones from the festival - but loads more!"

"How many?"

"Too many," Kaoru replied.

"Oh, _fantastic..."_ Mrs. Hitatchiin muttered.

"So what do we do now?" I asked, looking from the door to the boy on the landing, who now was having to be restrained by both Tamaki's father and Honey's just to keep him down. "If there's one in here, and so many out there..."

"So many _what_?" Mrs. Hitatchiin asked me. "They're people, aren't they?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," I said again. "They're not people, not anymore. They're changed."

"Changed..."

"I supposed we should call them that, then," Kyoya said under his breath. " Henkō - the changed." The name sent a shiver down my spine.

"Did you have to bloody name them, Kyoya-senpai?" Kaoru called, "You make it sound like they're zombies or something, and you know they're not real."

"Language!" his mother berated him, and he shied behind Tamaki.

"Well, considering how Satoshi died just over an hour ago..." Mori's voice was heard, and we all looked at him. There was a harsh silence, save for the grunts of the men and beast they restrained, and the sudden distressed whispers of Akira Morinozuka. The third year had started away from the group by the door and was staring at the wrestling mass beside us. "And that thing isn't my brother. It's barely even human." He looked at me.

"Neither was my dad," I conceded; not able to look at anyone, I stared at the wall. "And... it had to be done..." I felt Kyoya's hand convulse within mine, but I didn't look at him. Instead I looked at the bodies writhing on the floor. "It... he... oh God..."

"What's she saying, Takashi?" Mr. Morinozuka asked fearfully, his voice catching. Mori said nothing. It was Kyoya who spoke.

"Her father... Ranka-san was... was unfortunately killed. It was all that stopped him."

"_No!_" cried Akira.

At this I suddenly had the horrible images replay again in my head, of the white eyes, the bloody red hair, the pole rutting out right through his head. I threw myself at Kyoya, needing something or someone to support me, seizing him in a hug that must have truly hurt. He seemed too shocked to do or say anything. He awkwardly patted my head, perhaps hoping I'd find it a comfort, which strangely I did.

"It's all there is to do..." Mori said in a low voice. I could hear the very eyes of the room turn on him. Nobody spoke, and he raised his head. "He's not who he was. He died. I was the only one who saw, save for Haruhi... My brother _died_ before me, and my brother stayed dead." Silence. "That is _not_ my brother."

"Then I suppose we - "

"AAAAAGGHHHH!"

"Father!" Tamaki yelled, sprinting across the entrance hall and up the stairs as Yuzuru Suoh reeled back, crying out as he clutched his bare foot, which had begun to bleed. He had been bitten. "_Father!_"

"_No!_" I screamed, as Yorihisa Haninozuka was thrown backward by the changed boy. No longer restrained by both men, the Henkō reared back, baring it's bloody teeth. Its tongue lolled out, revelling the taste of blood.

"Yuzuru!" Yoshio seized his friend by the shoulders, keeping him from falling, but the man was groaning in pain. The Henkō staggered about, getting a bearing on it's cold blue feet, fixing its white eyes on the black-haired man who he once called father. He stood, petrified and heart-broken, as he saw what had become of his youngest son. "Everyone, we have to get out of here! Now!"

"Satoshi..." Akira whispered. "My poor boy..."

"Akira!" Yorihisa shouted at him, pausing in his pursuit of the others as they made their way away from the landing. "Akira, you have to let go and come with us!"

"Father!" Mori also began to shout, but Akira did not - or else could not - move. The Henkō bared its teeth, raised its arms, and began to step forward. "Father!"

"Uncle Akira!" Yasuchika joined, and so did Honey.

"My son..."

It began to move faster, toward its prey, who was fixated to the spot with numbing fear and heartbreak.

"Fa - "

"Goddammit!" I bellowed, causing the creature to falter a split-second in its confusion; I used that second to seize it by the shoulders and haul it back, and - with a cry - I used all my remaining strength to throw it over the banister. It hit the painfully solid marble below, and the sickening crunch of bones seemed to almost echo. The Henkō tried to stand, but could not; it's leg was shattered.

"Haruhi..."

"You - " I began, striding over to Akira, jabbing my finger at his bearded face. "Takashi is the only thing you have left in this world, so how dare you fall apart and almost abandon him like that!? How _dare _you!"

"I - "

"Haruhi, no…" I heard Mori say, coming up behind me. "We all just need to get out of here." He looked up at Akira, taking hold of his broad shoulder. "Come on, father."

"But Satoshi - "

"Satoshi's gone."

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 05:31**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt.** **Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"What was that?" Cho gasped, bolting upright. The young woman looked about her and found that she had been sleeping, passed out on a sofa, still fully clothed. The mobile still lay against the wall on the floor, the battery quite dead. Her beloved was nowhere to be seen, which frightened her almost as much as the cold heaviness she felt within her. It hung like a shadow across her heart, weighing her down and filling her with cold. She sat there, panting, seeing the faintest dregs of dawn light glowing through the slits of the blinds, but the sight of a new day did not renew her zest for life as it normally would have done. Instead it made her feel still more alone and cold, detached from the world outside, only allowed those few slits of sunlight like seeing freedom through the bars of a cell.

"Jiro?" she called, pushing herself to her shaky feet. She stumbled a little, steadying herself against the wall with one hand while the other held close over her stomach, which threatened to turn at any moment. "Jiro?"

Upstairs, having been very comfortably asleep, Jiro Noboru opened one irritable blue eye. Had God forsaken the gift of a good night's sleep? Must he be plagued with this worrying woman for the rest of his days? Not at all, if he could help it. The sooner that bloody serum was completed, the sooner he could dispose of his sweet little assistant, and go off in search of a much larger prize - or two, in thinking of Sukurima. Oh, how he missed a woman who could satisfy.

"Jiro?"

The sound of her voice alone, calling for him with such worry, made him cringe. Good god, would it be plausible to cut out her tongue and have done with it? He'd gotten to sleep perfectly well and stayed that way, not at all bothered at her having fallen asleep - well, he had in fact been bothered that she feel asleep _on _him - but having discarded her upon the sofa, which was rather an accident considering how he was somewhat aiming for the floor, he'd made his way upstairs and found more than enough comfort in having the king-sized bed all to himself. But now here she was, _again_, calling out for him as seeking comfort. Women are no better than dogs, he thought to himself as he sat up, always wanting attention and a rub across the back to tell them they've been good.

Though he supposed there was not much by way of pleasure to be had with dogs. Not that he found much more pleasure with Cho. At least it made the other men in the house jealous to make her cry out his name the way she so often did. She would just have to do until another, more challenging, woman appeared. That was the trouble with Cho; she was too quick to succumb, so _eager_ to be _loved _that she didn't even fight back whenever he took her. And he far preferred the ones who needed… _convincing_…

"Jiro?" the poor child called again, frightened now that he still did not answer. Jiro could hear her ascending the stairs, and threw off the bedsheet and positioned himself on the floor. As Cho continued along the corridor towards the bedroom, he made a show of just waking up, looking about dazedly. "Oh, Jiro!" she cried as she saw him, getting down on her knees and flinging her arms about him. "Oh, I was so worried!"

"I am so sorry for worrying you, my butterfly," he said, grasping her back tightly with one arm, the other hand clenching a fist in irritation. "Once you fell asleep I was so upset for your cousin I hardly could sleep, I was up all night pacing - but I know at some point I must have fallen asleep too, because I don't remember lying on the floor at all, I -"

"Oh, thank you!" Cho held him tighter still. "Thank you so, for worrying! I'm sorry, I'm such a terrible one for worrying…"

Yes, he thought, I'm aware…

"I am sure they will have been alright," Noboru said gently, and she pulled herself away from him, kneeling between his legs. He put a hand to her cheek, cupping it softly, and looking into her face. "They're one of your lot, so they'll be resilient, won't they?" Cho risked a half smile. "That's my girl - my brave, kind, wonderful girl. Keep smiling for me, won't you?"

"For you, I'd do anything," Cho affirmed, her smile a little more sure. He leaned forward and kissed her once, but he did so with such a slight sliver of his tongue that she wished he could give her more, despite all the worry weighing down her heart. "Anything."

"You say that a lot. It begins to feel redundant…" Noboru looked away from her, feigning sadness. She took him by the face with both hands, turning it to look at her.

"No, not ever," she assured him, and he silently revelled in the pained earnest of her features. "There's nothing at all I wouldn't - you - Jiro, you know how I _love _you!" Oh, how he loved to watch her squirm to maintain his affections… Such a dog, so ready to obey her master, so quick to upset when they were displeased. And how displeased he was.

"With all this, all this stress and pain you've been put through, it really shows who a person is beneath any kind of lies they may build up. That's why I feel like your love for me is not true…"

"But it is!"

"Is it?" he asked, peeling her hands from his face and holding to her wrists. He locked his piercing blue eyes with hers. He would have grinned from the pleasure it gave him to see her discomfort if it would not him away. "Because all the love I see from you is in the ways you look at Akihiko - yes, I've seen you!" For she had started away, shocked at such an idea, but he kept hold of her wrists, keeping her there, pinioned before him. "All you ever do is look at him, only _him_ \- no matter where I am, you're there, gazing into his eyes like a lovesick schoolgirl, and it hurts me. _You_ hurt me, Cho."

"No!" she exclaimed, trying in vain to free herself from him, but his grip only tightened. "Ah, Jiro! You're starting to - "

"Why is it him?"

"You're hurting me!"

"_You're_ hurting _me!_"

"I don't mean to! I swear!"

"What do you swear?"

"My love!" she cried, and suddenly his grip relinquished slightly. She ceased her struggling for a moment, looking deep into his eyes. "My love, Jiro."

"Your love?" he questioned her, seemingly suspicious, though within himself he was cackling with glee.

"Yes," she whispered, breathless, shuffling on her knees so as to be closer to him, level to his face. She moved her hands forward, resting her palms against his cheeks as he continued to hold her wrists. "Yes, I swear to you my love, Jiro Noboru. And everything that comes with it."

"And what is that?"

"My word - _my word _\- that there is nothing I would not do for you." She looked at him, her eyes deep and solemn and honest. "Nothing at all. Not ever." She paused, then leant forward slowly and kissed his forehead.

"You swear you will do anything for me?"

"Anything."

"Whenever it is that I want it?"

"Any second of the day, I am yours."

"You swear it…?"

"I swear on my own life, that I _always_ will give to you whatever it is that you want."

He released his hold of her, and she lowered her hands. He smiled a little, just twitching the corner of his mouth, and then stood. She followed, taking his hand as help. Then, slowly he reached around her and pulled her into an embrace, his lips brushing just past her own and hovering, tantalising, upon them.

"I want you. Now."

"I - " But the rest of her sentence was cut off by her gasp as he began fiercely kissing her, seizing her leg and hitching it up over his hip and keeping it there as he directed her onto the bed. He threw her down and seized her hands, holding them down above her head as he continued to kiss her. He felt a rush of excitement through him as he felt her struggle beneath him. "Jiro, I - please - don't - "

"You said you will give to me whatever it is that I want," he said in a sombre voice, pushing down against her hands and pinning her down completely. She was helpless before him, and now she truly knew it. "I said I want you… and I want you now."

"Jiro - "

"Are you going back on your word so soon after swearing on your life?"

"I - "

"Do you even love me at all?" He let his face drop, his eyes darkening as though in sadness, though really they darkened in their match of his heart. The sight of those sorry eyes made guilt rippled through the young woman, and she understood too well the pain of being promised love before having it ripped away before her. She had experienced it countless times. But here was one who would not do that to her, for genuinely he was so in love he had become almost jealous for her sake. With all the worry and fear coursing through her, she could not bear for him to do this to her now, but she could even less bear his heartbreak if she did not.

"Of course I love you…"

"Will you prove it to me…?"

Cho did not say anything for a moment, merely slid her legs a little further apart.

"Of course I will. I'll do anything you tell me to do. Happily."

Noboru grinned a soulless smirk.

Exactly like a dog, he thought.

He had her now. And her life was forfeit.

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 07:13**

**Suoh** **Family** **Mansion**

"We _still_ don't know what we're going to do…" Yoshio muttered, pacing back and forth across the near-silent entrance hall - it was silent but for the continued groans of the Henkō, which now was attempting to crawl toward each person in turn, so the party maintained a steady rotation of the room to avoid it.

"We can't stay here indefinitely…" Yuzuru said, coughing a little, already turning pale. His foot was bandaged, and Tamaki kept very firm support of him as they continued their traipse about the room, but most of us seemed to know what would become of him.

As the adults continued to converse in sombre tones, I walked beside Mori, gripping to his arm and hardly daring to let him go. He was solid now, stiff and cold and an iron pole. His face was grey with fatigue, though his eyes were alert and he fixedly avoided looking at the disfigured form of his brother as it continued to claw its way towards him with those dead eyes glowing like mist. His fists were clenched, as they had remained so for the last few hours, and his jaw set. He hunched like a man beyond his years, and it was all I could do not to be patronising in my comfort - despite knowing his exact trauma, whatever I said I felt pained him further. Yet, no matter how exhausted and empty we felt, neither of us could muster the effort to cry.

The same could not be said for Yasuchika. He had tried, in vain, to approach the Henkō, tried to reason with it with all the memories they had shared, but it had merely lashed out with its hand and tried to pull him down, and so the boy had clung to his brother like a child to its mother in despair.

"There's nothing else for it," I heard Yorihisa say in a whispered undertone to the other adults, and I turned my head a little to direct my ear toward them. "Look at them all, they're exhausted, and we must _do_… something…"

"I… I'm afraid I have to agree…" replied Mrs. Hitatchiin. "I'm so sorry, Akira."

"I'm more sorry for your poor boy," said Yoshio, "Both of them. I can't imagine if any of mine were to…"

"Hush, my love," whispered his wife, putting a supporting arm around him. "Don't say such things, with Kyoya so near. Or any of you; we need them out first…"

"Agreed. None of them can see this…"

"See what?" Hikaru asked, having come round a while before, and was in a foul mood for lack of sleep and the throbbing pain of his head. Suddenly, everyone stopped, the Hosts turning to look at their parents.

"We don't have to explain anything, Hikaru," his mother said firmly, running an almost nervous hand through her cropped hair. "These are things only we adults need to be a part of."

"We almost all are adults," he replied petulantly. "We have a right to know - especially when it concerns - "

"That doesn't matter now," Akira said, and from just hearing his voice - after so long in silence - Hikaru stopped himself. "I don't want any of you here - _any _of you," he repeated, having seen the way Mori looked at him. Just from that, the third year knew. He pulled himself from my grip and paced his way toward the door to the next room with robotic stiffness.

"It's the head," he muttered as he went. We all looked after him, and before we could speak the adults began to usher us away with him. Once we were shoved into the next room, we heard two of the men dragging a pair of chairs in front, keeping us there. We all were silent. Tamaki had slumped down onto a pouf, gripping his face in his hands and staring, teary-eyed, at his own twitching bare feet; Kyoya knelt next to him in encouragement. The twins had similarly sunk down onto an ottoman together, Hikaru grumbling about his head. Honey was holding Yasuchika close, eyes wide as he knew what was about to happen in the room we had just left. Mori just stared out the enormous window, which spanned the entire wall, watching the leaves on the trees shudder with the wind that had begun to grow, tiny flecks of rain spitting against the panes of glass that kept us from the outside; or, rather, kept the outside from us. For now I could see for myself the figures that roamed, aimless and bloody, beyond the confines of the mansion.

The Henkō.

'The Changed'.

The ex-humans, whatever they were.

Zombies - as if they ever existed… But… now they do. Do they? Oh, God, I hope not… If not that, then what _were _these… _things_?

It was then that we heard murmurs of agreement from the entrance hall, and I turned my head to look at the solid doors shielding them from us. There were footsteps, echoing off the high ceiling, and then something horrible: the Henkō began to screech. Like nails on a chalkboard, it cut the air like a knife, chilling the blood to the innermost core of your heart. The noise made my stomach turn, made me clutch my hands to my ears as it resonated like a foghorn, high and loud and sharp as the yell of death itself. It was the sound of a creature cornered, without escape and close to death, turning to its last resort - the other's of it's kind.

And they answered.

* * *

**I have some serious apologies to make for the horrific lateness of this chapter, college has been absolutely working me to the bone and since I'm off sick at the moment I figured I may as well enjoy myself - with lots of blood and the deaths of multiple favourite characters (yay)**

**No doubt the quality has perhaps suffered somewhat, I haven't been writing anything for a while, but I really missed this, so I'm doing my best to get going again. And once more, updates really won't be regular as I go into exams, but I'll do my best**


	12. Safety: Limited Time Only

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 07:19**

**Suoh** **Family** **Mansion**

It all happened so fast. The Henkō's scream pierced the air, and immediately was echoed by it's fellows outside. Those of us sitting leapt to our feet, and watched - horror-struck - as we saw the ambling bodies outside turning and sprinting toward the manor. We cried out in fear, scrambling for the door just in time; the enormous window shattered as the creatures hurled themselves into it like crazed animals, snarling viciously. As we slammed the door shut behind us, Kyoya and Tamaki throwing chairs down to bar them from opening, we could hear the bangs of bodies hitting into the solid wood.

Quivering with fear, we turned to see what had once been Satoshi on the ground. Now motionless, his head had been split by immeasurable force, a pool of blood tracing its way to the glistening shoe of Akira Morinozuka. There was a horror behind his eyes such as I had never seen before; he connected eyes with me a moment, then turned his back on us all. My heart skipped a beat to imagine what it must be like to kill your own son, even as a mercy.

"What do we do now?" Yasuchika asked tremulously, his voice cracking. The adults exchanged glances, unsure of what to say. Yuzuru Suoh limped toward us, his teeth gritted against the pain; Tamaki hurried forward as though to help him, but the man seized firm hold of his only son's shoulders.

"Father -"

"You listen to me, Tamaki," Yuzuru interrupted, his tone hushed. "You take your friends and you get out of here - get away, get far, _far _way, and - "

"But - "

"I don't want to hear a _single_ but," his father warned, and his eyes set deep into Tamaki's. There was deathly seriousness within them now, usually so jaunty and relaxed. "We don't have time for any kind of goodbyes, you just need to _go_. Do you understand me?"

"Fath-" Another, more violent slam against the door caused the chairs to shift, and Yuzuru tightened his hold of Tamaki.

"Do you understand me!?"

Tamaki nodded, setting his jaw and blinking quickly - I could see how much he was trying not to cry. Yuzuru hugged him tightly, and all too soon he had let go.

"Come on," Tamaki said hoarsely, his red eyes set on us. I nodded in assent, taking hold of Honey's hand and hurried over to them; the others followed, and we all threw on coats from the stand before the front door. The adults watched us, steadfast in their refusal to cry as their children prepared to leave them.

"Can't we at least say goodb-"

"We can't, Kaoru," Hikaru said, gripping his brother's arm. Kaoru looked from him to his mother, who shook her head. "We have to go."

"But we'll see you again - I know we will!" the older twin said, and Mrs Hitatchiin smiled.

"Of course we will, darling," she whispered, ignoring the tear that dropped from her eye to the floor.

"We all will," Yoshio added, and Kyoya looked at him. Their eyes met. "Take care of them, son."

"I - I will," the bespectacled boy tried to answer coolly, helping my arms through the lavish fur coat he had found for me.

"I love you, Kyoya. I wish I'd told you more."

"Father - "

The door burst open, the chairs flying aside. We screamed as the Henkōs swarmed forward, the adults scattering to arm themselves with chairs and umbrellas. Kyoya seized my hand and tugged me down the corridor toward the front door, the others following immediately in our wake. I heard a squealing, like that of an animal crying, and turned my head to see Antoinette - Tamaki's excitable golden retriever - scrabbling at the kitchen door and jumping up and down frantically as her head popped up above the small window.

"Antoinette!" Tamaki cried, immediately breaking away from us to go for her.

"Tamaki, leave her!" Kyoya shouted, but Tamaki would not heed him. He threw open the door and disappeared inside. The moment he did so, a Henkō appeared in the corridor behind us.

"Tamaki!" I screamed, knowing that one of those monsters now separated us from him. I could hear loud crashing from the room he had just entered. A moment later the kitchen door burst open once more, and Antoinette streaked out in a blur of golden fur; she locked her teeth around the Henkō's leg and shook her head from side to side, throwing the creature down. Tamaki followed her, carrying an assortment of enormous carving knives and a rolling pin. "What are - "

"We'll need these!" he shouted across me, driving one into the fallen Henkō's skull. I shrieked in disgust as its purple blood spurted out, though a moment later one had been thrust into my hand. "Now let's go - _now_!"

The group of us left the mansion and hastened away down the drive toward the front gate, clutching knives like a horde of bandits as we broke away from the once beautiful house. Our feet, most of which were bare, crunching against the gravel propelled us onward, hearts racing and breath catching as the sun rose steadily behind us, Antoinette streaking ahead madly.

"Where are we going to go!?" I heard Honey cry as we neared the gate.

"I think I might know somewhere!" I called.

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 09:06**

**Kasanoda Syndicate**

"Casanova-kun!" I whispered feverishly through the security system outside the front gate. Henkōs could be heard yowling in the distance, though still too near for any of our liking. "Casanova-kun, it's Haruhi - w-with the Host Club - please let us in!" The microphone crackled.

"Haruhi?" I heard Tetsuya ask tentatively through the audio system, "Haruhi Fujioka?"

"Yes!" I replied quickly, and in an instant the gates began to open. "Thank you, Tetsuya, _thank you_!" We squeezed our way through before the gates had opened more than a foot, desperate to be safe inside the heavily fortified grounds. After the gates closed behind us, we stared up at the great building looming over us. There was a sense of foreboding that came from the dark wooden structure, though it was our safest possible bet. Taking the lead I paced tentatively up the stone walkway to the heavy red front doors, adorned with deep etchings of martial arts lettering. Before I could knock the door flung open and a shock of red hair streaked out, a pair of wiry arms seizing me like a bear trap.

"Haruhi!" Kasanoda cried, knocking the wind out of me with the sheer force of him throwing himself upon me. A moment later he relinquished me, and I could see so much worry in his deep set brown eyes as he looked at us. He caught sight of Mori, seeing the darkness in his face, and looked once again over all of us. "Where's Morinozuka-senpai's brother?" he asked me in an undertone.

"That's why we're here," I replied, "Please let us in, and we can tell you anything we can." He nodded quickly, ushering us all inside and closing the door fixedly behind us. We were met by a wall of sound.

"WELCOME TO SAFETY, FRIENDS OF THE YOUNG LORD!" shouted each and every member of the syndicate in near perfect unison. I recognised Tetsuya among them by his unusually long dirty blonde hair, rolling his eyes at Kasanoda. He grinned.

"You're sure it's safe?" Kyoya asked, typical of his usual scepticism - though after the events of the last day I was inclined to nod vigorously in support of his question. I'd been forced to flee what I'd believed to be safe three times within a matter of hours, and I was not in the least disposed to do so again.

"Quite safe, my boy," a man piped up proudly, "You'll never find stronger walls, or stronger bonds than here at the - WHAT IS _THAT_ THING DOING IN HERE!?" We all turned, horrified, raising our weapons, expecting to see one of those monsters. But there was nothing there, only the door. I looked back quizzically, my eyes falling upon the wave of syndicate members staring, as horrified as we had just been, at Kasanoda; more specifically, at his lower half. Puzzled, I turned my gaze downward to find Antoinette, her tail thundering eagerly from side to side, her rough tongue licking madly at any part of his large hand she could reach. I don't know how I hadn't noticed her frantic squeals of excitement until then - they were as obnoxiously loud as her master's. Tamaki had taught her well.

"Th-that's Antoinette," I said as I looked from the man who had spoken to Kasanoda, who had hastily withdrawn his hand and was wiping it on his jacket. "She's Tamaki's - "

"DOGS," another man shouted, "ARE FORBIDDEN WITHIN THESE WALLS!"

"Forbidden?" the twins repeated, identical brows furrowed. We all jumped at Tamaki's sudden screech of discontent.

"But - but - "

"The Young Lord is allergic to dogs," Tetsuya said apologetically, and it was true - for Kasanoda had already begun to show signs of an imminent sneeze. Tamaki whimpered, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms tight around the retriever as though the syndicate intended to dispose of her. "I'm sorry, Suoh-kun, but we will have to put - Antoinette, was it? - outside."

"No!" Tamaki wailed, rocking the oblivious dog from side to side - her tongue waggled with the movement, her big brown eyes blinking dumbly. "I won't let you pit my baby against those - those _things_!"

"Not outside the property, you idiot," Kyoya sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his weary eyes. "Outside the house." Tamaki blinked as blankly as his dog, then seemed to have twigged the situation.

"Alright…" he pouted, straightening up and taking hold of Antoinette's bright blue collar. "Come on, Antoinette - outside." The retriever waggled her bushy tail as she was led away, quite content when the door closed behind her. Almost instantly we heard her barking, starting to run after the distinct sound of a cat screeching.

Kasanoda sneezed.

"BLESS YOU, YOUND LORD!" a hundred voices intoned.

"Alright, calm down," the redhead muttered, rubbing his nose roughly across his sleeve. Tetsuya caught his eye and, without having to exchange a single word, he began to usher away the other tenants of the syndicate.

"The young lord and his friends are tired - we should give them some peace - no, now is _not_ the time for Kick-the-Can, Busujima-kun - "

"C'mon," Kasanoda intoned to me, inclining his head briefly toward a door down the corridor. He sneezed again, met a second time by a chorus of blessings from the men who had not yet been herded away.

"This way," I said to the others as Kasanoda began to slouch away in his usual gangling manner, his messy ponytail swinging from side to side with each step he took. "Thank you," I mumbled as I ducked through the door he propped open with his foot. The boys followed, and once we were all inside Kasanoda closed the door and stared down at the handle wrapped within his fingers for a number of seconds before turning slowly and looking at us with an expression I hadn't seen before. Now that he was free from the expectation of the syndicates eyes all around, he seemed almost close to tears.

"I'm so glad you guys are safe," he said in a voice quite unlike his own, heavy with relief.

"You too, Casanova-kun," Honey said, his large brown eyes still wide with worry. "Though…" He looked to Mori, whose grey gaze was set fixedly upon the wall directly opposite him. He seemed not to be aware of anything else in the world but that wall, but we all knew he was all too aware of everything. "Not _all _of us are safe…"

Kasanoda turned his head fractionally toward the despondent third year, understanding almost immediately. His eyes darkened.

"I'm sorry," he intoned, and Mori looked at him. He nodded stiffly, then looked away again. It seemed for a moment that Kasanoda didn't know what to say. Then he opened his mouth once more, his voice quite dry. "What happened, anyway? At the festival, I mean. Everything was so quick… We managed to get out almost immediately, but..." He sighed, sounding suddenly angry, "What happened!?"

"We don't know," the twins answered solemnly.

"The Henkō - " said Hikaru.

"We call them Henkō - " interrupted Kaoru.

"Just got in and went wild - it's simple as that, right?" Hikaru continued, turning his eyes about the group.

"Henkō…" Kasanoda frowned, his narrowed eyes fixed upon his heavy booted feet. "The Changed…" He let out a sigh and rubbed at his intense brown eyes. "So I guess that makes them zombies or something, does it?" Tamaki shifted uncomfortably. Kyoya looked at him briefly, an odd sort of expression on his face. It seemed as though it could be sympathy, though with Kyoya it hardly seemed possible. He caught me looking at him, his gaze instead turning on me, and almost automatically I turned my face away. Kyoya cleared his throat fractionally, adopting a hopeful tone of command - though his voice shook a little, giving away his well hidden fear.

"We prefer not to use the Z-word," he said. Kasanoda nodded in understanding, but it seemed he didn't have anything to say past that point. Nor did any of us. We stood there in silence, exhausted yet too full of adrenaline to give in to aching bodies and brains, not sure whether to look at one another or talk or do anything at all. The silence was more painful that anything. It meant we could hear the distant yowling of Henkō beyond the walls of the syndicate, quiet yet ever-present - a living nightmare. Except they weren't living, were they? I shuddered. Kasanoda, whose eyes had been settled upon me for rather a while, took it to mean I was cold - hardly impossible, considering my filthy bare feet and legs, with only Mrs Hitatchiin's fashionable yet flimsy fur coat to cover my arms.

"Sorry!" he suddenly burst out, and we all jumped. "I haven't even been taking care of you, it's all been talk! Jeez, you guys must be so cold and worn out - Haruhi, you're not even wearing shoes, you must be in so much pain…"

"Just a tad…" I admitted, though my feet had been aching like nothing else.

"And you guys obviously haven't eaten since last night, let alone slept. God, I'm sorry for not taking care of you instantly - no wonder I made such a lousy host!" A few of us smiled weakly, and he seemed heartened. "Right, okay. Right. So - right."

"Left," the twins muttered. Tamaki rapped them sharply about the head.

Kasanoda cleared his throat.

"We'll get you guys a hot bath first - you look freezing, even with those coats on." We nodded eagerly in assent, and he smiled fractionally. "Okay, I'll ask some of the guys to heat up the bath house - you don't mind being in there together, do you? Just that we don't know how much hot water we can spare because of the… uh… well, the whole Henkō thing."

"Yeah, sure," Hikaru shrugged.

"We're all used to it, to be honest," Kaoru added.

"Especially if Haruhi's there," the two of them grinned. The colour in Kasanoda's cheeks rose considerably.

"Oh, s-so you guys really are all that close, aren't you?" he said, trying not to let on his embarrassment. I rolled my eyes at the twins - even at a time like this, they were still so insufferable.

"Don't worry, Casanova-kun," I said, stepping fixedly on the closest twin's foot, "We're really not." He swallowed with some difficulty, nodded mutely, then pulled open the door and disappeared outside. We could hear him calling for people to begin heating up the bath house as he walked away down the corridor, met to the accompanying rumble of what was probably the entire syndicate as they fought to be of the most use.

"So what now?" Yasuchika piped up, and we looked at him.

"What do you mean, Chika-chan?" Honey asked, frowning a little.

"I mean," the younger Haninozuka sighed, "We can't exactly stay here and crouch forever, can we? If hot water is limited, then so is cold water - and food. Plus with such a large syndicate to feed, let alone us, how long do you think we can stay because of their good will?" Nobody answered. None of us really wanted to consider the prospect. "Not very long, is my guess."

* * *

***Surprise, bitch**

**Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me***


	13. Different Kinds of Benefit

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 10:33**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

Cho lay alone upon the dark bed sheets, staring at the crack of sunlight shining feebly through the slit in the curtains. She was so tired, so utterly exhausted. She twitched occasionally at unexpected sounds, as though hiding from a ghost. The young woman drew her legs up closer to her chest, wincing a little from the slight pain in her hips. There were bruises on her stomach, and scratches that stung mildly as she touched them. It was not an intense pain, hardly noticeable but still _there._

She didn't understand what she had done wrong. Nor Akihiko. The poor boy was entirely innocent, just like her. She couldn't think of a time she had ever looked at him the way she looked at her Jiro. For she loved Jiro, loved him as she had never loved another man. For he was clever, and sympathetic, compassionate - for he feared for her cousin even though never having met him - and jealous for her. She knew he was only upset with her because he was jealous _for _her - she _knew _he loved her so much that he couldn't bear the thought of losing her to any other being. Her heart swelled to understand why - he was the youngest of ten sons, and no doubt had the most distance to cross to shine brighter than his brothers.

But had he not said that he had something better? He had love. He had _her_. And she refused to disappoint him, whatever he could possibly have imagined about her and the other assistant. Sitting up, she set her eyes upon the door directly opposite the bed through which the handsome doctor had fled while she still slept.

"I won't disappoint him," she whispered, crawling off the bed and getting to her feet. "I won't! I'll prove my love for him by any means necessary. I'll be by his side no matter what, and I'll help him finish that antidote if it kills me!"

* * *

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 12:04**

**Kasanoda Syndicate**

I'd been sat in the bath for so long the water was no longer hot. Lukewarm at best, the reddish water was almost still for I hardly moved. My legs up to my chest, chin on my knees, I stared blankly at the mirror opposite. My tired brown eyes stared back, not quite closed. I hadn't bothered to actually wash, the blood congealed black on my skin and flaking fractionally away.

I felt bad for practically wasting the limited water we had, though I could barely bring myself to move anymore. I was just…so tired. It felt as though I hadn't slept for years and years, my mind too dull to think yet still so full of thought. So much had happened in so little time, and so horribly. How could it be that just twenty four hours ago we'd been about to set up for the festival; or that just twenty four hours ago Mori had asked me to go with him? And dad was… Well…

I sighed, closing my eyes and turning down my head so my forehead now pressed against my knees. In the space of seconds I could feel the all too familiar heat of tears welling in my eyes. How could it be that he was dead just twelve hours ago? It didn't make sense… It was still so impossible to imagine that he was gone - and yet I'd seen him fall from the railing, seen the iron bar puncturing his once friendly face. The thought of the blood spilling out violently from between those dead white eyes made bile rise in my throat, and I gripped myself tighter. My back shuddered, the water lapping my bloody legs as I began to cry. I tried to stop, tried to banish all thoughts of him from my mind. But, as is always the case, the more I tried to avoid the image the more fiercely it burned itself into the forefront of my brain.

How long had it taken for him to turn after I'd left? In those eight hours, when had he lost it all? And to think that he killed the landlady, too. After hearing the ex-Satoshi's wail that had called its kind to attack at Tamaki's house, I can tell just why she would have hurried to the apartment after hearing it. Poor woman…

And to think of all the other Henko - multiplying exponentially, now - that had been at the fair. There had been only a few, ten at most, yet how many had they managed to infect at Ouran? There were thousands of students, thousands of parents, hundreds of other guests from all around. If even a tiny percentage of them had been bitten, that would still mean hundreds of them in under fifteen hours. And since then? God only knew…

The worst thing was that the Henkō weren't slow and lumbering, like the stereotypical Z-word. They were quick, and strong. Dad alone had proved that much; tittering and silly in life, dad often had trouble opening certain types of door - there was something unique about the Henkōs that made them superbly powerful, so much so that even Mori had been unable to restrain him for longer than a minute. And if that was the case, how would anybody be able to contain them? Would the syndicate gates hold them? If there were to follow the chain of opposing stereotypes, might the Henkōs also be intelligent? Might they figure out that, should they work together, they could easily create a force strong enough to bear down the front gates?

I let out a soft moan of hopelessness, releasing my legs and leaning back against the tub wall so that I stared morosely up at the ceiling. After a while I closed my eyes, feeling the last lingering tears trickling down my cheeks, leaving tiny trails of heat across my skin. Without really noticing, I began sliding slowly down the sleek surface of the tub, the cool water enveloping more and more of my body. The murky substance had almost swallowed all of me, my face just hovering above the surface, until I was pulled out of my descent by the sound of gentle knocking.

"Haruhi?" Kasanoda's tentative voice called through the heavy wooden door. His voice was garbled through the water submerging my ears, though seemed somehow oddly magnified. I opened my eyes and gripped to the sides of the tub before pulling myself back upright, the water sloshing noisily all around me. "Are you alright? You've been in there a long time."

"Yes," I called back, throat a little dry from not having spoken for a while. "I'm fine."

"Okay," he said, sounding instantly less concerned - evidently he must have thought I'd fallen asleep and subsequently drowned. "I've left out some clothes for you on the bed next door - sorry if they're a little big."

"Thank you," I replied, staring once again at my wet-haired reflection.

"And lunch will be in about half an hour, so hopefully you'll be dry by then."

"Thank you."

"S'alright," he said, and without seeing him I could tell he had done that familiar shrug that mean he was trying to be casual even though he knew what a big deal it was. "The least we could do for - "

"I mean it," I said again, my voice a little louder than it had been, causing him to fall silent, "Thank you. I don't think you understand how grateful we are - how grateful _I _am…" He didn't say anything in answer, though I hadn't expected him to - surprisingly shy at heart, Kasanoda had always been rather bashful when it came to talking to me. I smiled fractionally, wondering whether or not he would be blushing, when I heard him clear his throat awkwardly and then his footsteps beginning to pace quickly away. The door from the room beyond closed, and all was silent once again.

I sighed, looking down at my legs beneath the murky brownish water. Blood still clung nastily to my skin like an ugly rash, flecks across my arms and chest too. I resolved to finally make actual use of the bathe, scrubbing the pointlessly cold water up and down me to relinquish the stubborn red matter from my skin. The water turned steadily darker as I rinsed myself to the nearest degree of cleanliness I could muster, and after a few minutes I had risen to my feet and stepped over the high sides of the tub onto the sleek black tiling. I retrieved a large red towel from a sizeable rack beside the dark granite sink, and began drying myself off before wrapping the bobbled fabric about my chest and proceeding to the bedroom beyond.

As he'd said Kasanoda had left a pile of clothes, in a rather untidy heap on the bed - clearly he wasn't one for folding things neatly. Then again I'd hardly suspected he would be. Draping the damp towel over the edge of the bed, I pulled on the pale grey t-shirt and stepped into the black skinny jeans, adorned with many zips and a chain stemming from one hip. As expected from the gangling redhead, I had to roll up the bottoms to keep from tripping over the remaining six inches that trailed over my feet and across the floor behind me. Shivering a little from the water I'd foolishly left to run cold, I hastily shoved my arms through the baggy dark red cardigan that had been at the bottom of the pile.

I was surprised to find that the boots, heavy and steel-toed, fit almost perfectly. There was no way his feet were as small as mine, Honey's were almost the same size. I wondered where he could have got them from. Though I supposed, as I looked at myself in the floor length mirror against the wall, that was hardly the most pressing concern. There were too many concerns already. What were we supposed to _do_? At all? Where would we even _start_ managing to keep ourselves safe until the Henkōs would be destroyed? But… _could _they be destroyed? If their numbers continued to grow at the current rate, what was the likelihood of each and every one being struck in head with enough force to hinder their locomotion? And what if, in the extremely likely chance that that is impossible, then how soon could it be that all of Japan was consumed? And then what? The surrounding countries - the continent - the _world_…

What could we possibly do if even one Henkō got out? That single body could be the tipping point of the balance of life and death as we know it.

Gazing solemnly at my inconsequential reflection, I could feel my heart beat rising considerably. I could hear the blood pounding in my head as my thoughts turned darker and darker. I wasn't crying, but I was shaking quite considerably. The more I kept thinking, my mind whirring madly, the more fearful I became.

What if we couldn't protect each other? What if one of the people I love most gets hurt again? Tamaki would have been ripped apart had it not been for the twins - I would have been too if it weren't for Mori. Kyoya had taken the initiative to get us out of there, had shown a side of him I'd not seen for far too long - he, who so despised physical contact of any kind, had shown more compassion than I'd ever known in embracing me so tightly. Were it not for Honey and Yasuchika's athletic prowess, who knew what could have happened if they hadn't beaten back the ex-Satoshi? I couldn't bear to imagine what I'd do, what any of us would do, if something like Satoshi were to repeat itself. We'd lost him within hours, and Tamaki's father was to follow if we were right in assuming the bites were infected - I wished that we weren't, but the cynical side of me knew it was foolish to hope.

"No…" I breathed, speaking aloud though there was nobody to hear but me. I paced slowly closer to my reflection, closing my hands into fists at my sides. "This isn't you. You're not giving up, Haruhi. You _owe_ it to them to keep hoping. I can't let myself be down, about anything - I can't let them see me upset." I nodded at myself as though in encouragement. "Dad told me yesterday to never let any of them out of my sight. He told me I didn't know how lucky I was to have them; well I know now, dad. I do. I really do…" My voice cracked a little. "If it weren't for all them keeping an eye on me, where would I be? They love me and look out for me more than I ever realised - you were right, dad… You were always right… about everything." All the while I had been talking I hadn't noticed the footsteps approaching, nor the composed knocking. I gave my reflection a watery smile. "I love them all so much…"

"Haruhi?"

I looked round. The door had opened without my realising it, Kyoya framed there looking very odd indeed in an outfit similar to mine. His hair was unkempt, probably not having been brushed yet, and the shirt he wore was slightly too large so the sleeve just drooped down off one shoulder. It was strange seeing Kyoya in such attire, though by no means was it a bad change - in fact, I rather found I preferred the wilder look to him. He looked almost like Mori.

"Oh," I said in surprise, stepping aside from the mirror to face him. "What are you…"

"I did knock," he stated quickly as I looked at him expectantly. He coughed under his breath as though to clear his throat, though he didn't say anything else.

"I wouldn't have thought you hadn't," I responded, folding my arms and taking a few paces toward him. "Just didn't realise you were there, Kyoya."

"Is this a new leaf of yours?" he asked as I came closer, one eyebrow raised. "Are we to disassemble honorifics entirely?"

"I suppose it saves valuable syllables, doesn't it?" I answered, shrugging. His eyebrow raised itself fractionally further in an almost questioning manner. "Should I ever need to shout for you, with some Henkō baring over me, it could be all the difference. Don't you think?"

For a moment he did not respond, and I came to stand more or less directly before him.

"Does this mean to say that I should assume I'd be the first you'd call?" he asked, his dark grey eyes fixed upon me with a strange expression I didn't know how to name. It was a mix between surprise and… I don't really know what it was, but it was an expression totally unlike his typical stare. I barely took note of it at the time, in my exhausted state, though I really should have done.

"If that's how you want to phrase it," I intoned, before shooting a wry smile up at him, "I mean… You could start lecturing it about finances and it'd very quickly die of boredom." He appeared almost taken aback, but at the sight of me smiling despite everything he seemed heartened.

"I'm glad you're still able to find humour in things, Haruhi," he told me, and I noticed he was smiling too. "Tamaki was right; you really are more resilient than you seem."

"I think that's the first time you've ever admitted to being wrong, Kyoya," I smirked, pushing his arm playfully. "I bet you're all fired up inside, aren't you?"

"I don't mind being wrong in this case," he replied, and I looked at him in surprise. His eyes bored down into mine, and there it was again - that oddly intense expression that I just couldn't quite describe. "I've often been mistaken about you, you know; I'm only glad you're always able to prove me wrong." He paused, looking away momentarily as if in thought, then moved fractionally closer to me so that our feet almost touched. He gazed down at me, his austere mouth curved in an unexpectedly gentle smile. A moment later I felt his hands upon my shoulders. "You're a fascinating young woman, Haruhi Fujioka. And I really do admire that resilience of yours…" Those dark eyes flittered across my face, and I was unsure as to whether or not I should speak. For a moment, it seemed, neither did he. "Among other things…"

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked quietly, strangely transfixed by his stare and the grip of his hands.

"Do I need a reason?"

"_You _do," I replied, and his neat black brows furrowed. I continued, "Being complimentary isn't in your nature, unless you have something to gain for it. I'm not your guest, Kyoya, so what could you want of me? You already have my respect, and my friendship, so if you want me to do anything for you then all you have to do is…" I was distracted by the way his head appeared to be lowering down toward mine. "…ask… Kyoya, what are you - "

"Do you really want to know why I'm saying these things about you?" he intoned, his face closer to mine than it had ever been before.

"Yes," I said, unmoving. "I do."

It seemed to take the bespectacled second year a good moment to answer.

"Haruhi," he began to say, "I'm telling you these things because I… Haruhi, I think that - "

"_Kyoya!_" Tamaki's shrill shriek of displeasure suddenly sounded, making the both of us jump as running footsteps thundered down the corridor towards us. A moment later, Tamaki had burst into the room and had wrapped himself like a melodramatic koala about his best friend. "You said you were going to the bathroom then coming back! Why did you decide to take a detour? No wonder you're taking so long!"

"Tamaki, you idiot," Kyoya sighed, prising himself from the blonde and folding his arms much like a mother scolding her child - it was little to no wonder that he was dubbed as 'Mommy' in Tamaki's ridiculous family format for the club. "I said I was going to the bathroom then coming back _with Haruhi_." Tamaki wasn't in any state to hear Kyoya's retort however, babbling his own many woes endlessly over the top of him.

"I thought you might have gotten lost and been eaten by one of those horrible things! What would I do if that happened, Kyoya? What would I do without my Mommy!?"

"I'm not - oh, forget it…" the bespectacled boy muttered, seizing Tamaki by the arm and beginning to frog march him from the room. "Come on, Haruhi - let's make sure the idiot he doesn't injure himself." I nodded in assent, turning off the bedroom light and following the two boys down the corridor. Tamaki continued to prattle on and on about the multiple horrible ways he thought Kyoya had died, so I took the opportunity to walk alongside Kyoya and speak with him.

"What was it you were going to say before you were interrupted?" I asked, not noticing the way Kyoya set his jaw.

"What?" he said, as if he had not heard me over Tamaki's jabbering.

"I said," I raised my voice a little, "What were you going to say to me?"

"Oh, uh…" He coughed as though clearing his throat, not looking at me. "I was just going to say that I think you're a benefit to the club." He spoke these words rather quickly, and I was mildly taken aback for a moment.

"You… You've told me that before," I said, frowning up at him.

"Yes, well - " He coughed again. "Just emphasising the point."


	14. Promise

**Tuesday 2nd May 2014, 12:47**

**Kasanoda Syndicate**

We ate with a ravenous hunger, teeth gnashing ceaselessly as we eagerly devoured the food we had so graciously been provided. At such a rate, we were finished quickly - especially due to the limited serving the syndicate could spare. As we waited for the rest to empty their plates, I sat and watched the different faces all around me. The fear was unanimous; though chatter sounded about the room, the underlying panic of uncertainly lingered like a dense cloud above our heads.

I felt a kind of discomfort inside me, like that of being watched, and turned my head in the direction from which I thought it came. I saw nobody looking at me, however, only Mori with his dark grey eyes fixed sternly upon the floor beneath his crossed legs. I looked away again, focussing on nothing in particular, unaware that it had in fact been another pair of grey eyes that had been watching me.

"Is everyone done?"

I looked up to see Kasanoda now standing, surveying the room.

"Nobody wants seconds, or…?" He shrugged, but we mostly shook our heads - Tamaki had to smack Hikaru on the arm for nodding readily. "Right, okay, well… Thanks for the chow - Asamita-san, Korami-san, great work in the kitchen!" The two men beamed, bowing their heads almost in unison.

"You're most welcome, young lord!" they intoned.

"Hirano-san, would you mind helping clear up with a few others?" he asked a balding man beside him.

"With pleasure, young lord!"

Almost instantly a number of hands flew into the air, then joined by still more, and a chorus of, "I volunteer! I volunteer, young lord!" began to ring.

"Alright, um… Temetsu-san, Tsukaru-san, and… yeah, okay, you can help as well, Yuroko-san."

"Thank you, young lord!"

Kasanoda's mouth twitched fractionally, his cheeks going a little pink at the reception of his order. He mussed a hand through his hair, awkwardly shifting his weight from one leg to the other as the men began bustling about and picking up plates. He looked rather like a child lost in a supermarket, bobbing about and not really wanting to cause too much of a fuss. It was as I watched him, offering to help and stepping bashfully backward when he was declined, that I thought how genuinely sweet he was; he knew every one of these fifty-odd men by name, and all of them had such authentic respect and liking of him. Even though he was master of the house he sat and ate with them, and felt awkward about issuing orders without pitching in his good turn too. He viewed himself as their equal, and they as his friends. I was glad to be counted as one of those friends, as it once again proved to me that - even in the dazzling and overbearing world of material appearances - you should never, not once, judge a book by its cover.

"Thank you," I said as my plate was whisked away from me, leaving me cross-legged on the floor surrounded by hurrying feet and legs belonging to the many other men that had decided to pitch in and help as well. Feeling distinctly in the way I clambered to my feet but, attempting to shift myself out of the swarm, succeeded only in being knocked aside by a man carrying an inordinately large rice cooker. I stumbled sideways, almost pushing over the person I fell into.

"Watch where you're - Haruhi?"

"Sorry, Kyoya!" I mumbled, peeling myself off the second year and making sure I had a firm footing on the ground. "Rice cooker…"

"It's fine," he replied, pushing the glasses higher up the bridge of his thin, straight nose. "Just don't make a habit of it, okay?"

"Okay," I conceded, not quite catching his brief smile as I turned away and craned my neck to see if Kasanoda had moved. I'd resolved to go over to him and express my previous thanks face to face, rather than from opposing sides of a bathroom door. Seeing that he was where he had ever been, I made about sliding through the rushing layers of bodies to reach him on the other side of the room. "Hey."

"Oh - Haruhi!" he said, surprised to find me beside him. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to thank you again," I answered, continuing quickly as he made to speak against me, "Properly, that is."

"You don't need - "

"Yes, I really do," I pressed, taking hold of his wrist and pulling him back to look at me as he prepared to move on. His eyes fell on me, though not looking directly into mine; his cheeks redder than usual, he maintained firm focus of a spot just left of my shoulder. "Please don't be so self-deprecating. You honestly don't understand how important you are - to all of us." His blush intensified, as did his determination not to look me in the eye. I lowered my voice, placing stress on every word. "You're saving our lives by taking us in, and that's an overbearingly big decision but nobody wanted to deny you. So many people love you so much, they'd do anything if they thought it made you happy, and…" His eyes momentarily flicked away, gazing out at the men of the syndicate as they bustled about jovially and handed around plates and cutlery. "I'm so glad to be one of those people."

He wasn't quite capable of a smile, nor any kind of verbal response - rather he just stood there seeming rather shell-shocked, his brain seeming to work in overdrive behind his dark brown eyes. His already heavy brows were furrowed deeply, as though finding it difficult to comprehend the compliment I had just paid.

Just as I let go of him, he took hold of my hand and began leading me quickly away and out into the corridor.

"What are you - "

He pushed open a door with his shoulder and pulled me inside.

"Kasanoda-kun - "

"Just - "

Before I understood what was happening I'd been pulled into a bear-like hug, my face pressed into his shoulder and my arms pinioned to my sides. I could almost feel him shaking, though not quite. I wondered whether or not he may have been crying.

"Kasanoda-kun…" I said softly, and he released me.

"S-Sorry…" he said feebly, stepping back and turning away slightly. "I just… didn't want to do that with everyone watching, y'know?"

"Why?"

"Dunno, really…" he shrugged, scraping the floor with his toe. "Just…"

"It's okay to be shy."

"I know, it's… Don't worry."

I smiled a little. His cheeks flushed, making his face almost match the colour of his bright red hair. For a moment he didn't say anything.

"D'you really mean what you said?"

"Of course I do. And more."

"R-Right…"

"I mean, I didn't even mention how charitable you are to give us so much of your water, and food, and clothes, and - "

"Do they fit, by the way?" he interrupted, seemingly finding a little more of his voice.

"What?"

"The clothes, I mean - do they fit? Only, I don't know if I have any smaller for you - and I'm really sorry if that's the case, I just - "

"They're fine," I assured him, holding up my hands to silence him. "Thank you." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Though… the boots. They're not _yours_, are they? Your feet are way bigger than mine."

"Oh, um…" He looked at me sheepishly. "Those are actually… my mom's."

"Will she mind if I'm borrowing them?" I asked. "I don't want to be a nuisance if I'm living on your charity…" He didn't saying anything for a moment, looking away at a random patch of floor. His fists clenched.

"She won't mind…" he said quietly.

"Really? That's awfully nice of - "

"She's dead."

"I - oh…" He nodded sadly, and I shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"S'alright…" he shrugged, subconsciously rubbing a hand up and down his arm. "She died when I was little - guess you could say I've had a while to get over it…"

I didn't respond, bowing my head slightly and clasping my hands together before me. I watched my fingers for a while, writhing against one another as I fidgeted without thinking.

"You never really get over it though, do you?" I asked under my breath, and I saw him look at me out the corner of my eye. I looked up, catching his eye for the first time. "My mom died ten years ago, and it still seems so impossible to me. Some days I forget it happened, and others…" I let out a deep breath, clenching my fingers together tightly. "Ten years, and I still feel like I'll never heal."

"You… I never knew…" he whispered, and I gave him a thin smile. "I'm sorry."

"I don't understand why people apologise for death," I said, "I never have. It's not anyone's fault, especially in accidental cases."

"You mean…?"

"Car accident," I sighed, turning my eyes away. There was a short silence.

"Mine too."

I looked at him and our eyes met once again, and this time I saw a new kind of expression within them - something between intrigue and sadness.

"Really?" I asked, and he nodded.

"She was on her motorcycle, and it was dark and rainy. A traffic light wasn't working, or it was delayed, or - something…" I frowned, suddenly deep in thought. Odd as it seemed, the mention of the traffic light sounded almost familiar to me. "Some guy driving a van got impatient and sped through just as mom decided to do the same, and… he didn't stop." He paused, his eyes darkening as they lowered to the ground. "She swerved, skidded, and crashed. A pedestrian ran out to help her, but because of the weather they didn't see the van losing control too. They both went under, but neither came back up again."

His voice cracked by just a fraction, but it was enough. I turned my eyes upward again to see his brimming with tears, though he seemed determined not to let them fall. I was barely conscious that mine, too, were watering - though I was more than aware of why they would be.

"That…" I whispered, staring up at him. "That was my mom - she was… that pedestrian." His eyes widened in shock, and I felt a tear slide down my cheek. "She was on her way to work - I walk by that same set of traffic lights almost every day on the way to school. It never works, it hasn't for years." My voice was suddenly much higher than it usually was. "Dad's been complaining about it not working ever since she - I mean, he - oh, God…" I put my hands to my eyes, forcing my knuckles deep into my sockets to force myself to dispel the tears. I didn't want to cry, but every time I thought of mom I got sad - and now that I'd lost dad too it seemed hopeless.

"I literally told myself half an hour ago that I wouldn't get like this…!" I choked, shaking my hands and breathing deeply to try and calm myself. "I'm sorry - I don't mean to be so - "

"It's okay," he said in a hushed tone, and I felt his rough hand upon my shoulder. "Kyoya told me about your dad - you've been through a damn load more than what I could deal with, Fujioka. You won't feel so bad after you get some proper rest. You're just overwhelmed…" In answer I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. He patted my head almost with embarrassment, then wrapped his wiry arms about my shoulders and swayed me gently, his chin resting on the crown of my head. "You're gonna be safe here, Fujioka. And you're gonna be happy." He planted the tiniest of kisses upon my hair. "I promise."

* * *

**Dammnnnnn 3 chapters in a month!? Illuminati confirmed**


	15. Whether 'tis Nobler in the Mind

**_The language will start getting more and more explicit from here on out, so if _****_you're sensitive to that sort of thing - I'm sorry!_**

* * *

**Tuesday 6th June 2014, 23:54**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt.** **Warusawa; Shizuoka**

Cho didn't speak, too tired to do so even if she dared. But if she had any courage left in her, she didn't know where it was. She was afraid, but not only of the pandemic that spread outside the walls of her sanctuary - she was afraid of what lurked within. She cast a wary eye to the man frantically scribbling on a piece of scrunched up paper, his sleep-deprived eyes darting with a manic glint between the numerous computer screens before him, transferring data from screen to sheet with such an energy that he did not possess. He was burning pure adrenaline at this point, awake for three days straight without rest. The moment he stopped, he would crash. But he couldn't stop, not now. Not now that their number had decreased by one.

It was something Cho didn't like to remember. The nightmares it left were playful in comparison to its reality. In her haste to fetch a test tube for Noboru, she had tripped and fallen, shattering the glass and slicing open her hand. Akihiko had come to dress her wounds, but upon seeing them alone together - seemingly holding hands, not seeing the way he was tightening the bandage - Cho had seen him descending into a bitterly jealous rage. He hadn't slept for a few nights before that day, either, and upon seeing his 'love' with another man he had lost control. Or so Cho thought.

Akihiko was forced to leave the laboratory's safe interior, his name tarnished with the belief that his presence would be a bad influence on Cho. The young intern, outraged and more perceptive than Noboru had given credit for, then finally saw through the charismatic scientist. He was given a hand gun for protection and told to be on his way, but was almost immediately restrained when he made to shoot Noboru. Cho, desperate to prove her fidelity - even at the sacrifice of her better judgement - had retrieved the gun as the two men struggled and held it to the boy's head.

"Miss Atsuko!" he had pleaded, tears rolling from his eyes as he was shoved toward the balcony ledge. "Miss Atsuko, please!"

Noboru held him there, his lower back pressed against the wooden fencing. The innocent man's eyes darted about wildly, struggling with all his might to push back the hands that gripped his neck, forcing his head and shoulders further and further over the edge. Below could be heard the guttural yowling and long, low, rasping breaths of the Henkō. Their slimy, blood-red faces turned up at the sound of Akihiko's cries, their broken noses catching the scent of blood pumping from a heart so desperate to keep beating.

"Miss Atsuko - don't let him do this - "

"Don't listen to him, my butterfly," Noboru hissed, his dark eyes narrowing maliciously as they fixed upon his latest prey, "And keep that gun fixed right between his eyes." Cho's hands trembled as she struggled to keep the gun aloft, the beseeching look in Akihiko's eyes too much for her to bear. "Then again… I don't have to tell you that, do I? You're my loyal little lovely, aren't you?"

Cho didn't answer, trying to keep her eyes free of tears, though it was a battle she was losing. Noboru's tone suddenly became harsher, causing her to whimper in fear.

"_Aren't you?"_

"Y-Yes…" she stammered, her voice higher and weaker than it had ever been before. She could feel her knees trembling, her heart thundering as she tried to ignore the signs that screamed what she knew was about to happen.

"No, you don't understand!" Akihiko shouted, his eyes fixed on Cho, unrelenting, begging her to come to his aid as he had done for her. "Miss Atsuko, don't you see!? He doesn't love you! If he did, he wouldn't make you do this - he wouldn't turn you into a murderer like him - _aargh!_" He spluttered, eyes bulging as Noboru's fingers dug deep into his throat, choking him completely. Wheezing, he grappled with the older man's hands to free himself, breath dancing from his reach.

"No!" Cho gasped involuntarily, and Noboru shot her a filthy look over his shoulder, causing her to take a step away from him in fear.

"No?" he repeated silkily, and Cho shook her head frantically as though it would erase her mistake. "Do you hear that, Akihiko? Does that little 'no' mean to say that she believes you?" He pressed harder with his nails, watching with a nasty smile on his hollowing face as the boy's face began to glisten with sweat.

"Jiro - my love - I - "

"Does that little 'no' mean that you think I'm a murderer?"

"Jiro - "

"You're not denying it, Cho!"

"I shouldn't have to!" Cho cried, her grip on the gun tightening convulsively. "I _love_ you, Jiro, and I know you're not a killer! Why would I love a murderer? _How _could I!?"

Noboru turned his head back to fix her with an imperious stare. He took in her terrified expression, the uncontrollable shaking that filled her every nerve, and a moment later his eyes fell back to Akihiko, his grasp slackening. For a moment, he didn't say anything.

"How indeed?" he said under his breath, so that only Akihiko heard. His eyes widened, before his face screwed up in a grimace of pure hatred as he was thrown over the balcony.

"_Murderer!" _he shouted as he fell. Cho screamed, dropping the gun and staggering forward, gripping to the balcony with so tightly that her knuckles shone white to match her face as all colour drained from it. Below she could see a mass of bodies, and hear the intern's screams as she watched in horror as he was torn apart by hand.

"You… killed him…" she whispered disbelievingly, her ears ringing with his agonised shrieks.

"No…" She turned her head and looked at him, lip trembling. He struck out a hand and hit her across the cheek. She crumpled, clutching her stinging face and staring up at him from the floor, too shocked and weak to cry out. He wrung out his fingers, scowling as though it were her fault his palm now stung red. His pitiless eyes turned slowly down onto the pulsating heap of once-human limbs below. "_They _killed him." He bent to his knees, and she cowered away. "I'm not a killer…"

"You're…"

He reached out a hand and roughly grasped her chin, forcing her head upward to look into her petrified face.

"You said it yourself, my dear," he reminded her, his soft voice more frightening than Akihiko's cries. "Or were you lying to me?"

"I… I…"

"You know… I happen to really _hate_ liars." A tear slipped from her eye, and he wiped it away with a calloused thumb. "Akihiko… was a liar…"

"No… he - you still didn't have to - "

"I know that, my love," he sighed, a look of deep regret sweeping his face, to the point of being almost believable to the naïve young woman so utterly beneath his spell. "You know how jealous I can be, and you know how little I've slept. I only want to protect you from bad things…"

"But he wasn't bad, he was - "

"A liar," Noboru pressed, closing a finger across her lips. "Dishonest men have a habit of leeching their way into other people. I didn't want him to think he could get away with corrupting you. I care too much about you to let that happen." Cho let out a deep, shuddering breath, hardly daring to think whether or not she believed him; it was her only chance anymore to trust the man before her. She was all too aware that Akihiko had stopped screaming. "But if I were to find that you thought _I _was one of those dishonest men? Let's just say I don't know how I'd control myself…"

"Jiro - "

"Now," he said, briefly touching his lips to her forehead, "I don't want you thinking about this messy matter any more. It's not good for that mind of yours - and you know how precious that is…"

"Y-Yes…" she whispered, closing her eyes and bowing her head. "I know…"

"What do you want?" Noboru's voice cut through her like the glass to slice her hand three weeks before. Cho suddenly realised she had been watching him, her coy glance turned to an open stare as the sight of him forced back the memory that had first began her warping opinion of him. He narrowed his eyes as she seemed to struggle for an answer. "What!?"

"Nothing, my love," she rushed to say, "Just that - that I think you should rest - it's not good for you to keep - "

"I don't give a damn what you think I should or shouldn't do!" he retorted angrily, and she quickly set about continuing with the papers she was meant to be filing. She tried to ignore his castigation, but he kept speaking. "Do you even know what will happen if I were to stop now? I _have _to finish this tonight, or I'll - "

His electric watch suddenly began beeping loudly to signal midnight, and he groaned loudly in exasperation as he fumbled to switch it off; he was so fatigued that he was barely able to do so, aggravating him further. Finally he ripped it off and dropped it, stamping hard upon its glass face. With a strangled digital chime and the crunch of breaking glass, the watch was silenced. He sighed irritably, running a shaking hand through his lengthening hair.

"Fuck it," he hissed, throwing down his pen upon the desk. "I'm too pissed off to deal with this anymore. This is all _your_ fault!" He jabbed an accusatory finger at Cho, who didn't look up. "I'm going to bed. Don't even think about doing the same until your work is done."

* * *

**Wednesday 7th June 2014, 02:41**

**Kasanoda Syndicate**

"Are you sure?" Kasanoda asked, worry etched into his face. His eyes flitted momentarily over the others in the room, full to bursting with faces every bit as concerned as his. "I mean - are you actually sure?"

"Quite sure, young lord," the man replied solemnly, bowing his head gravely. "We ventured as far as we dared, but it was almost a miracle that we all made it back unscathed. There's nothing we can do."

"The city is overrun," said his partner, and a hum of anxious voices rose up from the silence. I didn't know how to react. A dull, hollow emptiness seemed to fill my stomach. All I could feel was stone cold fear. I raised a shaky hand and gripped my chest, and for a moment it felt difficult to breathe.

"What do we do now?" I heard Kaoru ask Hikaru fearfully from beside me.

"Takashi, I'm scared…" Honey sniffled, burning his pink face in his cousin's sleeve. He raised a large hand and cupped the back of the tiny blonde hair, stroking his hair quietly. Yasuchika looked simply nauseous. Tamaki and Kyoya exchanged worried mutters, and I thought I felt a hand brush my arm. I looked up at the tall third year, and he looked back, his tired grey eyes full of intense anxiety. It was that same look, that picture of a man on the very brink of breaking, with not a thing in the world anymore but the people he loved - one of which had already been taken from him, by the very creatures that now supposedly surrounded us. I knew he counted me among that small number, in much the same way that I did with him. That look was the one that, of all the times he had looked at me this past month, made me want most of all to protect him no matter the cost. But it wasn't just something I wanted, however desperately - it was something I _needed _to do. Protecting him, the boy who never used to need protecting, was the only thing that would keep me going.

All the while I was looking at him, his gaze lost in mine, I didn't notice the swelling volume of talk that had risen to hysteria.

"Quiet - quiet, please!" Kasanoda was calling, his hands in the air. I broke my eyes away from Mori's to listen. "Everyone - please - please, let's just calm down!" At his word, the feverish chatter all seemed to die away. "Thank you…" He ran a hand agitatedly through his dark red hair, catching my eye as his restless gaze scouted the room once more. "Does anyone - a-anyone know how many more supplies we have?"

"I checked the basement and pantry yesterday morning, young lord," a man close to me said, and the whole room set eyes on him as though drawn like a magnet. "We have enough to last another three days, up to a week on half rations. Though…" He faltered, and it was hard not to notice the look he gave myself and the other Hosts.

"Though…?" Kasanoda repeated, his eyes darting from the man to me.

"Accounting for our guests, I'd say we have four or five days at most. After that…"

"Thank you, Wakaba-san, you - you don't need to elaborate," Kasanoda intoned, and the Wakaba bowed his head. This ill news was not met with panic as the previous had been; it seemed, now, that the whole syndicate combined shared my silent dread. Nobody spoke, and almost nobody moved. I gripped my stomach momentarily, and stared at the floor. The words escaped me before I accepted them.

"We'll go."

"Haruhi…"

I looked up at Kasanoda, whose eyes were wide with disbelief and reluctance.

"We have to," I continued, but he started toward me.

"No!" he said quickly, shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_! You don't have - nobody - nobody has to go! You're not - "

"It's what's right, though," I countered, pushing down the hands that had tried to take hold of my shoulders. "We came here knowing full well that it wouldn't - and couldn't - be permanent. We've been here for over a month now, so it's time we stop relying on other people. You've done far too much for us, and we can never repay you or any of your house for its kindness - let us try by giving you the rest of what little resources you still have."

"Haruhi, just - " Kyoya began across me, but I slapped him away.

"Don't you start, too, Kyoya!" I said irritably, rounding on him. "I know it's difficult for someone like you, just try and do the noble thing for once - we have three trained martial arts masters on our side, and the rest of us are either fast or smart. Tamaki is both. We're more than a match for those things - and even if we're not, I'd far rather die fighting for the people I love, than hiding away until I starve. Wouldn't you?"

"I know I would," Yasuchika interrupted suddenly, and everyone looked at him. For a moment he seemed embarrassed but, at a look to his brother, he seemed to regain confidence. "What? It's true…"

"Me too," Honey affirmed, taking hold of his younger brother's arm.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Hikaru added, grinning over at his twin, his arm linked around his shoulders.

"Nor would I," Tamaki said, in a voice so genuinely serious I would never have expected it from him. His deep blue eyes turned to his best friend, almost imploringly.

Kyoya, whom I had assumed would have been angry - in the least - at my outburst, just about seemed to smile.

"You're right, Haruhi," he assented, and he cast a quick glance over the other boys; out the corner of my eye I saw Mori nod fractionally. "Absolutely right." Kyoya finally looked back to Kasanoda, who was plainly still hesitant to let us go. Or was it just me he didn't want to see outside the safety of the high stone walls? The more I looked at him, and the more he looked at me, the more I seemed to understand.

"Ritsu…" I said quietly, and his eyes widened momentarily at my use of his first name. "Please. For the sake of you and your men… we have to go."

He didn't speak for a long time. Then, after looking once more at the faces of all the Hosts, he turned back to me. A very weak smile twitched at his lip.

"Guess you'll need some proper gear, then, won't you?"

* * *

**While it's certainly not the fluff she was probably expecting, I (finally) updated my favourite fanfic to celebrate the birthday of my dear friend, ERidg17. Have a good one, E ;)x**


	16. Parting Gifts

**Wednesday 7th June 2014, 10:22**

**Kasanoda Syndicate**

Forcing myself out of bed that morning was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. I'd barely slept, and had been awake from around five onwards. I hadn't left the confines of my bed, though, slipping in and out of consciousness as my mind whirred endlessly, always coming back to the prospect that - once I got out from under the blanket - I'd never get back in. While I knew it was the right thing to do, I was terrified. Through those silent hours that I lay there, head throbbing, I could hear the blood pounding furiously in my ears, my heart constantly unsettled.

But I couldn't let it stop me. On the day of arriving at the syndicate, I resolved to staying strong like dad wanted - like dad needed me to be. For the past month I had refused to let anything keep me from smiling. I had to do it, for dad and for the boys. If we're all hanging by a thread, then the only way to keep it from breaking was by believing that if it did we'd start a new web somewhere else. Together. And it was working, more or less; despite our worries about the world beyond the wall, I'd noticed that whenever I was around the boys - Mori especially - were far less serious.

My positive outlook, however forced at times, had even led to my befriending numerous members of the syndicate. I'd been approached by them after our agreement to leave, and they - like their master - had begged me to reconsider. But I couldn't, even though I now desperately wanted to. I'd said that with our wits and strength we could potentially be a match, but I knew that was barely true. The Henkō were strong enough to almost overpower Mori, and it had taken the combined strength of the Haninozuka boys to beat back Satoshi. Whatever I had said now had to be what I believed, or I could never face any of them - I had to believe that we could survive, or any chance of doing so would be lost immediately. Hope and faith in one another would be our only real resource out there. That and whatever 'gear' Kasanoda hoped he could supply.

I heard a knock at the door as I tightened the laces of my steel-capped boots, and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was now less than ten minutes before we would leave. My voice shook a little when I spoke.

"Come in."

"Haruhi?" It was Kasanoda, looking every bit as bleary eyed and sleep deprived as I felt. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess," I lied, undoing and retying the knot I had just done to try and distract myself from the reality of how I was feeling. I heard Kasanoda issue a quiet breath of laughter.

"You never change, Haruhi," he said, coming over to perch on the edge of the bed. "You're too stubborn for your own good."

"What would you have liked me to say instead?" I asked, lowering my foot from the stool and looking at him. "That I'm feeling terrified beyond belief, to the point where I think I might throw up?"

"Well, if you were to throw up it'd be an excuse not to let you go…" he replied quietly, and I turned my eyes away, sinking down onto the bed beside him. Neither of us said anything for a moment. "I don't want you to go, Fujioka. I couldn't stand it if something were to happen to you…"

"I have to, though."

"I know. I just wish you didn't."

I turned back to look at him, and found he was already looking back at me, a look of deep sadness in his eyes. I smiled fractionally.

"Thank you for caring about me so much," I said, and the colour in his cheeks rose somewhat. "You really are so much kinder than people give you credit for."

"R-Right… Thanks…" he said quickly, trying hard not to blush, though failing. My smiled widened, and for a moment his innocently surprised expression caused me to forget the ticking of the clock before I left him - perhaps for forever. Then, as I realised this, it came back with twice the severity to my apprehension. I let out a shaky breath and bent over my knees, cupping my face with my fingers as I fixed my gaze on the floor to try and calm myself down. "Haruhi? You okay?"

"I've already lied about it once," I replied uneasily, attempting to steady my breathing. "I won't try and get away with it again. Guess I just feel… so… so unprepared - to say the very least. Oh, God…" I buried my face in my hands. "What am I doing!?"

"Hey, hey, hey - calm down…" I felt his arms suddenly around me, wrapping me with surprising comfort. "You're strong, smart, and you're brave. Those things aren't going to get past you without a damn good fight, Fujioka. I believe in you." I slowly released my face, but didn't sit up, staring blankly at the floor. "And you won't be alone, either. Your friends will all be there beside you, and they love you more than anything. They won't let anything happen to you. You knew that already though, right?"

"Yeah…" I sniffed, straightening up and wiping my eyes to make sure I wasn't crying. Surprisingly, I wasn't.

"And it won't just be them looking out for you, either."

"What do you mean?"

"Come with me."

A moment later he had taken hold of my hand and was dragging me away, out the door and then down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" I asked, but whatever his reply was I didn't hear it over the general noise of the twisting halls, men of the syndicate all clamouring to prepare things as I spotted various hosts weaving between them, looking apprehensive. Kyoya seemed to see me too, and I thought he may have called out to me, but by the time I had turned my head I was being pulled into an adjacent room, the door closed swiftly behind me.

This room was comparatively silent to the rest of the house, and just barely lit by a number of sputtering candles that surrounded some sort of table. I felt the boy's hand leave mine as he began toward the source of light. I paused a moment before following. As I drew closer to the dull candlelight, I could make out the shapes of flowers and sticks of incense on the table. A picture frame was at the centre of these, the glass reflecting the light of the candles so it was difficult for a moment to see the photo behind it. By the time I stood beside Kasanoda, who was now on his knees with his head bowed, I saw a pretty young woman with flaming red hair, laughing as though she hadn't a care in the world as she leaned against an enormous black motorbike. Realising at once that this was his mother, I bent to my knees to pray alongside him.

"You remind me of her, you know," Kasanoda's voice broke the silence, and I turned my head a fraction to look at him. His eyes were still closed, his head still bowed, but he was smiling. "She was smart, and stubborn, and devoted as it was possible to be. I know she would have liked you, Haruhi."

"Thank you," I replied quietly, gazing back up at her photograph. "Though… I'm afraid I still don't quite understand why you brought me here."

Without a verbal response, Kasanoda rose to his feet and reached over the candles to take hold of something behind the shrine that I hadn't noticed before. As I straightened up, he raised a sheathed katana and brought it back to hold it out to me.

"Like I said, it won't just be the boys looking to keep you safe out there," he told me, and I stared down at the sword in its dark red sheath, "The Kasanoda Syndicate will help protect you as well. Take it."

"I… This is your mother's… isn't it?" I breathed, my wide-eyed stare fixed upon the weapon that was proffered to me. "I can't accept this - "

"She would have liked you," he repeated, "She would have wanted you to have it."

"How can you know that?" I asked, looking up at him in disbelief. "Can you honestly say that you know?"

"_I_ want you to have it," he pressed, his deep brown eyes fixed on me with earnest. "Please, Fujioka. Take it." I turned my head down, not sure what to do.

"I don't even know how to use it…" I whispered, feeling rather foolish.

"Morinozuka-senpai does, though," Kasanoda said, pushing the sword closer toward me. "He can teach you. Besides, it's not all that hard - you just have to make sure you hit them with the sharp bit." I smiled weakly, but still didn't take it. "Please. Haruhi, _please_." There was a sense of desperation in his voice now. "Just do this - for me."

I stared at the long blade for a long while. Could I honestly be expected to use this without some sort of disaster occurring? I was clumsy and uncoordinated enough as it was, let alone with a deadly katana in my hands - god help the others if I tripped and impaled one of them. With a resigned sort of sigh, I reached out a hand and took hold of the sword.

"Thank you," he said quietly, letting go and allowing me to take its full weight. It was disarmingly light, and I withdrew it to inspect the curved blade itself. Sleek and slender, the candlelight danced across its surface. It was a truly beautiful sword, kanji lettering etched into the surface near the leather-bound handle: _faith._

"Why are you doing this for me?" I asked, watching just how smoothly the metal slid back into its holster. "Why are you always so generous?"

"Because…" Kasanoda began, a nervousness in his voice that was unlike any fear I'd heard before. "Because - Fujioka - I - I love…" I looked up at him, but in the near darkness I wasn't able to see quite how red his face had turned. "…looking out for my friends."

I opened my mouth to respond, but then the door swung open and a tall figure stood silhouetted in the doorway.

"Haruhi?"

"Kyoya?"

"It's half past ten," the second-year said, and my stomach convulsed painfully, "It's time to go."


	17. Family

**Wednesday 7th June 2014, 10:31**

**Kasanoda Syndicate**

"I wish you didn't have to go," Kasanoda said as he let go from shaking Tamaki's hand. Tamaki shook his head solemnly, casting the smallest of glances over his shoulder at me. I nodded fractionally, giving him an encouraging sort of smile.

"It's what's right," the blonde conceded, stepping back a pace to stand beside Kyoya, who was holding a large backpack filled with supplies. "Thank you so much for all you've done for us."

"I'd gladly do it again," Kasanoda replied, and Tamaki smiled weakly.

"You must let us return the favour," Kyoya said, slinging the backpack round his shoulder and extending his hand. The redhead took it, and the two shook firmly. "If we ever see you again."

"We will," Mori intoned, and we all looked at him. "I know we will."

Kasanoda's eyes widened momentarily, and he opened his mouth as if he might say something but soon closed it again. Instead he nodded, and vigorously shook the large hand before him. As Mori stepped back to his place behind me, Honey tiptoed forward and tightly hugged Kasanoda about the waist – the highest part of him he could reach.

"Stay safe, Casanova-kun."

"You too, Haninozuka-senpai," Kasanoda said with mild discomfort, awkwardly patting the tiny blonde on the head, unsure of whether or not to engage in further physical affection with his senior. Yasuchika inclined his head politely, and the twins grinned their Cheshire smiles. Finally, I stepped forward, and his arms almost instantly enveloped me in the strongest hold I would have thought him capable. It was as if he were trying to keep me from ever moving from that spot just outside his door.

"I'll see you around, Fujioka," he said hoarsely, as though holding back tears.

"Not if I see you first," I replied, pulling away so his arms were forced to relinquish me.

"Look after yourself," he told me, and I smiled up at him with as much reassurance as I could muster, holding tight to the katana in my hands.

"I have this to do that for me."

He returned my smile, and ruffled a hand affectionately through my hair. As he did so a blur of yellow bounded over, and Antoinette appeared directly between us, on her hind legs with her front paws scrabbling at his stomach. Her slobbery tongue was lapping at his hands, tail waggling madly as she whimpered excitedly.

"I might even miss you, too, little mutt," Kasanoda choked, his eyes glistening despite his best efforts as he ran his hands through the dog's long yellow hair. I looked at Tamaki, who whistled for Antoinette to come. She obeyed, going to stand with her now kneeling master. "Just… promise me you guys will be okay."

"We promise," Kyoya said, slinging the bag onto his back as the twins did the same with theirs.

"We're a family," Tamaki continued, straightening up and putting his hand on Kyoya's shoulder. "We're always here for each other; and if there's one thing family does, it's keep each other safe." I felt something shift behind me, and turned to see Mori _staring_ down at the ground, his fists clenched and jaw set. I could see the shadow of Satoshi in his eyes. I reached out a hand and took hold of his arm, and he slowly turned his head to look at me.

"We're here for you," I said quietly, clenching my hand a little about the loose fabric of his sleeve. "_I'm _here for you."

"I know," he said, and I could hear the others beginning to walk toward the gates.

"Haruhi?"

"We're coming, Kyoya," I said, drawing my eyes away from Mori's and following on, slotting the katana's sheath through a belt loop as I went. My heartrate began to increase as the gates started their mechanical clicking, drawing slowly open to reveal the city beyond them. I could see the figures ambling aimlessly, and for some reason the groans I'd become so accustomed to over the last month were oddly amplified by the drawing of the formidably gates. I subconsciously placed my hand upon the sword's hilt, as a few paces before me the twins drew their knives in their usual manner of synchronisation. They walked closer together than they normally did, almost holding hands but not quite.

To my left Kyoya began to arm himself also, as on my right Mori strode beside me with a fierce determination in his eye. Yasuchika and Honey brandished handfuls of shuriken, a gift from Kasanoda. Leading our small party, gun entirely out of place in his hand, Tamaki walked toward the gates with a characterised stiffness found only in people terrified beyond thought.

Upon reaching the threshold, the gates now open with nowhere else to extend, we stood a moment and faced the creatures in our way. Slowly, very slowly, they began to realise something was amiss from what they had grown used to. One, then two, then five, then twenty, turned their heads toward us, noses aloft as they sniffed the air as it blew from our direction. Snarling, tantalised, they began to run.

"We're a family," Tamaki repeated in a loud but quavering voice, raising the unfamiliar weapon in his grasp. "Let's show them what that means!"

* * *

**Wednesday 7****th**** June 2014, 10:34**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

Cho awoke with a start, a cold sweat drenching her body. She stared about, dazed and confused, and wondered why she was in so much pain. Then she realised that, with all the table legs about her and the overflowing bin by her head, that she was on the floor. She slowly sat up, shivering, her heart pounding and the dread of anxiety twisting in the pit of her stomach. Clutching a hand to her stomach, she rose unsteadily to her feet, leaning over the nearest desk to steady herself.

For some unknown reason she thought she heard shouting in her head, and screams, and could almost see spots of purple blood in front of her eyes. Feeling faint, she quickly sat down at the desk and held her head in her hands, clenching her eyes against the vision of blood that so repelled her. She thought she could see him, surrounded by people she didn't know, fighting what could have been the creatures that she helped create. Moaning she lowered her head onto the desk, gritting her teeth to expel the strangely prominent thoughts of her cousin.

"My butterfly?" came a soft voice, and for a moment she was too afraid to look up. She knew she hadn't finished her work from the previous night, knew she had fallen unconscious before she could do so, knew also that his wrath would be near unbearable. "Cho…"

She slowly opened her eyes one at a time, surprised at the gentleness that she had almost forgotten him to possess. Looking up, she saw Noboru standing in the doorway, once again clean-shaven and neat as he had been when she first met him. The light of the morning sun shone through a slit in one of the windows, illuminating his white shirt in an ethereal sort of glow. There was a concern in his eyes that she barely recognised, and as he looked at her a kind of regret filled his expression.

"Jiro…?" she whispered, still feeling the stabbing knots of discomfort in her stomach. "J… I – I'm sorry, I haven't finished the transferral you wanted, but I – "

"Sshhh…" he interrupted, hurrying over and leaning across the desk before her. She felt silent, hardly daring to believe such a sudden change in him. "Hush, my love. You don't need to worry. In fact, it should be me…"

"I don't…" Before she could finish speaking he bent closer and planted the softest, quivering kiss upon her forehead. "…under…stand – "

"I've been too harsh on you," he explained, casting down his eyes as if in sorrow, "I've yelled at you, called you names, frightened you, _threatened_ you." Cho's wide eyes scouted his face, still too afraid to agree to these confessions for fear of his anger renewed. "I've worked myself too hard, and therefore worked _you _too hard. I…" He sighed deeply, turning away. "I let myself become a monster…"

"Jiro…?"

"You heard me…"

"You're not a… a monster, you're – "

"Oh, but I am," Noboru continued, assuming a dark smile as he continued to shield his face from her. So pathetically submissive by now, he thought, that even after killing a man she worships my every word. "An absolute monster…"

"Jiro – "

"You don't understand, my butterfly. I'm one of them. I'm…"

"One of… _them_…?" Cho repeated, rising to her feet and fixing her eyes upon him.

"Only the littlest bit… but, yes…"

"No, Jiro, you're not – you've done things that are frightening, I admit, but that doesn't make you a creature like that…!"

"You still don't understand," Noboru sighed as she came round the side of the desk and kneeled before him, gazing up into his face. "Before the official administration of the serum, I decided to try just the tiniest dose on…" It seemed as though his mouth had gone completely dry. Cho's eyes widened.

"Yourself…" she finished in the smallest breath of a whisper. He nodded, relishing in the lie that seemed to so well manipulate her further. "Is… is that – "

"It's why I so often lose sense of who I am," Noboru conceded, turning his head down to look at her, "or who you are."

"You…"

"It's why I can barely sleep; it's why I sometimes lose control like with – "

"Akihiko."

"Yes…" Noboru choked, trying to force tears to well in his eyes. He covered his face with his hands to further the effect. "There are times, when I am finally myself again, that all I can hear are his screams – all I can see is his face – and I… I'm so horrified with what I am!"

"Oh, Jiro…" Cho said weakly, standing and putting her arms around him and pulling him close. "My love… My poor, foolish, love…!" She pressed her lips to the crown of his head, as his hands snaked around her back and gripped her tightly so that it was almost painful.

"I regret everything," he said. "I regret everything I've done to you. I've ruined your life, just like I ruined mine…"

For a long while Cho did not reply, holding to the man who now filled her head with such confusion as she almost forgot about the vision of her thrashing cousin at the forefront of her mind. Still the pain in her stomach lingered, crouching like an animal poised to strike, almost waiting for her next words to let her free from its predatory stance. Her wandering eyes fell upon a painting that lay against the wall on the floor, depicting the crumbled Greek Parthenon.

"Ruined walls can be rebuilt," she said softly, "Restored… We can, too…" Noboru said nothing, glad his expression of glee was masked in the crook of her shoulder. "It's true, there are times we've both frightened each other, shouted, screamed, hurt, but… If you're willing… I think we can…"

"Rebuild," Noboru said, drawing himself away from her to look into her glowing, teary-eyed face. She nodded meekly. "And stronger than before."

"Yes…"

"We're stronger than we were alone, together…"

"Yes."

"Like a family."

"Yes."

Noboru's eyes suddenly seemed downcast, and he turned his head slightly away.

"I just wish I had a true family like that…"

Cho took hold of one of his hands, holding it gently in his slender fingers.

"I could be your family," she whispered, and he looked at her, his mouth hanging a little open. A tear slipped from her eye, and he watched it glide across her smooth, round cheek and into the crack at the corner of her lips.

"Could you really?" he asked, his gaze turning from lip to eyes and back again. Her sleek black head inclined in the slightest of nods.

"Yes."

"Then…" He leaned a little toward her, as though about to kiss her, but then he stopped an inch or so from her lips. "Will you marry me?"

Cho's mouth dropped open, and for a moment she was barely able to breathe.

"Yes," she at last mouthed, and he kissed her, uncertain whether or not he had settled his ultimatum for a great enough emergency; the near completion of the serum was close, he could feel it, and until he had exhausted the other scientists as test subjects, he had to keep her closer than ever. Just in case he needed one last guinea pig.

* * *

**Yeah, sorry, it's been a while. Blame play rehearsals, and then play rehearsals for a different show, and voice acting, and exams, and university interviews, and my dog for distracting me, Donald Trump, Buzzfeed, and basically anything else you can think of. I've been ****_intending _****to continue this for a long time, but y'know... all the above happened, sooooooo...**

**At least it's out now, right? _Right!?_  
**

**Also yes, from here on out will be the constant stress of WHICH HOST DIES NEXT!? I mean, obviously I already know but _you_ don't... Ha ha, have fun with that!**

**This chapter is probably a disappointment considering the wait, but I'm _sure_ you're used to that by now, aren't you? And, as often as I _mean_ to say it, I realise that I don't, so - a _massive_ thank you to everyone that has so far reviewed, as reviews are essentially the most effective manner of getting me to write more, because physical indications that people would like more helps more than you'd imagine.  
**

**Special (but not unheard-of) shoutout to ERidg17 for always reblogging my posts on Tumblr - you're the best, E xxx**


	18. Honour and Comfort

**Wednesday 7th June 2014, 20:41**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

None of us really felt like talking to one another. It had been a day we were barely able to comprehend or recall without every hair on our body rising on end. Honestly we were too afraid to talk about what we had done. Setting foot outside the safety of the syndicate had terrified me more than anything in my life, and drawing the sword from my side had only intensified that fear. My hands had shaken so much I could have dropped it had my fingers not been so fuelled by terror that they had frozen shut around the handle. My body was filled with emptiness, unfeeling from how insurmountable that fear was: it was so strong I didn't even know if I was afraid anymore. I was afraid of everything, of every possible outcome, so the equal measure of fear cancelled out those outcomes, and I felt nothing.

Nothing, as I ran with them.

Nothing, as I fought with them.

Nothing, as I survived with them.

Because we had survived, all of us. All unscathed, we had found refuge in an enormous department outlet by the afternoon, and had raided the supermarket for whatever food we could find. Now we were on the penultimate floor, hiding from each other in the same square twenty feet of sample mattresses of the furniture department. It was just now getting dark, the early Summer sun sinking slowly in the sky as raindrops pattered softly against the window panes. The dim orange light just permeated the large windows, illuminating Mori's tall silhouette as he stared down at the city below, crawling with Henkō like distantly moaning cockroaches.

Tamaki sat cross-legged against the headboard of a four-poster, sullenly running his hand through the sleeping Antoinette's now matted fur, watching Kyoya pacing back and forth between two beds with his folded fingertips just touching his mouth as he muttered incoherently under his breath. Had I not already known him to be decidedly unreligious, I would have thought he was praying.

Yasuchika leaned against the bed his brother slept in, his knees drawn up to his chest as he poured over a book he had swiped from the library two floors below. The twins were also sleeping, cradling one another like children, exhausted from their lack of sleep the night before. Though they would never admit it, I quietly wondered whether this had been caused by their ultimate terror at even the idea of separation: knowing they were very soon to be thrown back into the fray, they were mortally afraid of losing one another. Every time my eyes fell on their sleeping forms I remembered the night of the festival.

_ "I mean, I don't know what I'd do if - "_

_ "Shut up, right now! Don't even think of that - just shut up right now, you idiot! That's not ever happening!"_

Never. That's what Kaoru had said. Except the unfortunate habit of things promised never to happen is that they don't like being predictable. Of course, now that they were 'never' to be apart, they were all the more terrified of the prospect should something happen. They were on edge as I had never seen them, and I hadn't seen them with any other expression but panic since saying goodbye to Kasanoda. Even after reaching our relative safety a number of hours ago, they had clung to one another's side as though sewn together.

I remembered how they had been separated shortly after entering the main sprawl of the city, as we fought a new gaggle of Henkō that had wandered into our path. Hikaru had tripped, crashing to the ground and scraping back the skin on his shoulder so it bled, pieces of gravel sticking into the raw flesh. The smell of fresh blood was too much for the Henkō fighting Tamaki. It lurched toward Hikaru, mouth gaping, her long straggly hair falling like greasy curtains over her face. Hikaru threw up his arms to shield himself, gritting his teeth and cowering away. It was impossible not to hear Kaoru's scream.

So loud, so angry, it even distracted the surrounding Henkō, leaving them open to attack as they turned their ugly heads to see Kaoru running full force toward his brother. Knife in hand, eyes ablaze, he threw himself upon the Henkō, still screaming wildly. The blade danced, slashing at every inch of the creature he could reach, bearing it to the ground in a matter of seconds.

"Kaoru - "

"Are you alright!?" Kaoru whispered feverishly, crumpling to his knees and fumbling to hold his brother's face to look at him. The wide green eyes stared back at him, pupils dilated with fear. "Hikaru!?"

"I-I'm fine, Kao-" But he was unable to finish, for his brother had burst into tears.

"Okay…" Kyoya's voice drifted through my head, and I snapped out of my blank stupor as I looked up from the twins. Everyone had pricked up their ears at the first human sound for almost two hours, but Kyoya only continued to pace. It was as though he hadn't noticed he'd said anything aloud. "Okay…"

Yasuchika sighed and returned his attention to the book propped open on his knees.

"Kyoya?" Tamaki asked uncertainly, but again Kyoya didn't seem to register. Tamaki saw me looking at him, and we exchanged a slightly worried glance. He gently cleared his throat and said a little louder, "Kyoya?"

"Hm?" the bespectacled boy intoned, whirling round and fixing his eyes on Tamaki as though he'd forgotten he was there. "Yes, what?"

"Is everything… okay?" I asked, and he looked at me in turn. His eyes scouted my face confusedly, as if wondering why everything wouldn't be okay.

"I… well, relatively speaking, I suppose so…" he replied slowly, and it seemed as though the words were difficult for him to form, for he was frowning. But a moment later he was almost smiling, with the corners of his mouth just barely bent upwards. "Thank you for asking, Haruhi. I'm glad you care."

"Of course I do," I answered, thinking just how uncharacteristic this gentleness was in him. "But I think you should get some sleep - and soon. You're not acting like yourself." He looked at Tamaki, who nodded, and then back to me, slightly perplexed.

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing you won't stop fidgeting," Tamaki began. "You're restless, Kyoya."

"I've never seen you like this," I affirmed, "It won't be good for your health if you keep acting so flighty. We're safe up here as long as we keep the main doors locked - you can let yourself off edge, you know."

"Haruhi - I… I'm perfectly fine," Kyoya said, sinking down onto the edge of Tamaki's bed. Before myself or Tamaki could form a response, we heard a voice from the floor.

"Listen to the girl, Four-Eyes," Yasuchika intoned, not looking up from his book. "You've been mumbling gibberish for over an hour."

"I was just thinking through some strategies for - "

"We can think about that later," Tamaki interrupted, ceasing his petting of the retriever and inching over to his best friend. He put an encouraging hand upon his shoulder. Outside the window, the sun fell below the horizon. The floor was now a deep blue of vague shapes in the darkness.

"You need sleep," I said again, and Tamaki nodded. "We all do, really…"

"We're trying to look out for you, Kyoya. Trust us."

Kyoya sighed and reached up a pale hand to remove his glasses. Tucking them into his jacket pocket, he rubbed at his eyes with one hand and ran it through his hair.

"I suppose you're right," he conceded.

"Am I ever wrong?" Tamaki asked, and Kyoya let out a weak chuckle.

"I'll deign to answer that, Tamaki." He pushed himself off the mattress and sighed once more, stretching his neck from side to side. "I'll go and see if there's another bed that's not taken. Goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight, Kyoya," Tamaki answered as he began to walk away through the maze of mattresses.

"Night," Yasuchika mumbled into his book.

"Sweet dreams," I called to his retreating back, and he almost seemed to pause for a moment, but just barely. It was like the tiniest lull of his footsteps, as though not sure whether to look back or not. Before I was able to consider this action, Yasuchika clapped his book shut.

"There's no light anymore," he sighed irritably, straightening up and making to get into the bed beside Honey's. "See you guys in the morning."

"Goodnight, Yasuchika."

"Yeah…" he replied, pulling up the flimsy duvet over his head and vanishing from sight. I looked back to Tamaki, who shrugged as if to say, "Kids these days…" Edging carefully under his own blankets so as not to disturb Antoinette's rumbling snores, he smiled wearily through the shadows to me.

"Sleep well, Haruhi," he said gently, and I nodded.

"You too, Tamaki."

He emitted a strangled sort of squeal of excitement at my lack of honorific, for now he was one step closer to being a true and informal father figure! As he began to get himself comfortable and wrap an arm around his sleeping dog, I myself felt distinctly awake. For a moment I'd almost forgotten I was the only one not already going to sleep.

"Are you not tired, then?" a low voice said, and I looked up to see Mori's silhouette still at the window. In the light of the moon I could just make out his eyes gazing over at me. Quietly I pushed myself off the edge of my bed and padded over to him with my bare feet lightly tapping the dusty floorboards.

"What about you?" I asked softly so as not to bother the others, coming to stand beside him. I could now see his face, and the chiselled features were etched with fatigue.

"I'm always tired," he answered, "I don't remember the last time I could sleep without waking up again from a nightmare…" He looked away and back out the window, raising a hand to the glass as his dark grey eyes surveyed the deceptively still night. "But now whenever I wake up, the nightmare is still there." For a moment I didn't say anything.

"I know how you feel," I whispered, looking out over the cityscape toward the distant mountains. "It happened to me first, remember…?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, and there was a bitterness in his voice. I could tell without looking that his eyes betrayed the memory of how he had killed my father. I tentatively raised a hand and took hold of his against the cold glass, looking earnestly up into his face as it turned to me.

"You saved my life," I breathed, shaking my head fractionally to dispel his doubts. "Yes, he was my dad, but… he wasn't my dad _anymore_. You said it yourself with… with Satoshi…" I felt his fingers flinch within my hold. His eyes darkened, and my heart felt suddenly much more sunken and hollow. "I never had a sibling, so I don't know what it must be like for you, but… I do _know_, and…" I closed my other hand around his, holding it between mine like a tiny, delicate bird. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, my voice trembling a little. "I'm sorry that I can't do any more for you, but I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You do more than enough," he replied, putting his free hand under my chin and turning up my head to look at him with all the gentleness of the wind brushing a flower. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either." My lip twitched in the tiniest of smiles, and a moment later I had let go of his hand and they were wrapped around his chest in a tight hug. My fingers gripped at his back as I clung on tightly, pressing my face into his shoulder and breathing deeply to keep myself from the tears I had promised myself not to permit again. Mori's hand wound around me in turn, his tender palms cupping the back of my head and cradling me softly. For one so large and broken, he now seemed so small and soft. He seemed to crumple beneath the embrace and comfort he so rarely received, for that hard exterior seemed one that so rarely needed such gentleness.

I could feel his muscles slackening from their tensions as thoughts of guarding and running and fighting eased out of him as he was enveloped by the corporeal warmth and love he'd been so long without. In this calm hold it almost felt like drifting away to sleep, and I began to feel oddly drowsy. I felt an unfamiliar wetness on my shoulder, and realise that he must have been crying. A moment later he seemed to realise this, and drew himself away, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and I shook my head.

"Don't be," I replied. "You just need some sleep. We both do."

"No, no, I… I want to stay up a little bit longer…" he said, putting his hands in his pockets and looking again out the window then back to me. "You go if you want to, but I…"

"You don't have to keep watch."

"I know. But I want to." He looked back at me. "I have to. For you."

* * *

**Thursday 8th June 2014, 00:17**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

I was shivering uncontrollably, my teeth chattering against the horrible chill that seemed to fill the building. My muscles were tensed and aching from getting shocked into place by the cold. Without central heating, the enormous floor was like an ice cellar. I'd run out of layers to put on, and it was too cold to bear getting outside what relative warmth I had to find another blanket. So there I lay, shuddering, gripping tight to myself and rubbing my arms to start some friction going. All around me I could hear the various snores of the boys, and wondered how on earth they could all be sleeping through such an intense coldness.

Then again, the twins had one another for body heat, and Tamaki had Antoinette. God knew Kyoya's soul was cold enough to keep him from feeling such things, and the Haninozuka's were so lean with muscle they were probably cushioned from it too. My struggle was mine alone. After tossing and turning to try and find a warmer spot I only succeeded in managing to allow cold air in through the gaps in the duvet, until finally it fell away from my top half so I was almost completely exposed to the draft. I sat up to try and seize the cover and throw it back over myself, but my sudden movement had alerted the figure at the window.

"Haruhi?" Mori whispered, and my teeth shuddered in response. "Are you alright?"

"Aside from freezing to death, I'm doing just fine," I replied, wrapping myself in the blanket like a piece of sushi and seeing whether or not folding me up in it would make it any warmer. So far it did not.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked, and I hastily shook my head.

"You'll ice over if you take it off," I said, my jaw juddering non stop like a jackhammer. "If you could get me another blanket though, that would probably be better."

"Yeah, of course," he said, "Give me a minute."

"Thank you so much…"

He hurried off into the darkness to find me one, and I could hear the rustling of sheets as he pulled it from a distant mattress. When he returned he made to wrap it around me, but succeeded only in tripping on a trailing edge and falling onto the bed beside me.

"You really are tired, aren't you?" I asked softly as he lay there a moment in dejection. He turned his head to look up at me.

"I'm fine."

"You must have been standing there for hours," I pressed on, freeing my arms from the confines of my sushi roll and taking hold of his shoulder as he sat up. "And, look, we're still safe and sound. Please just get _some _sleep. You're worse than Kyoya…"

"I just need to be sure that - "

"What, are you just never going to sleep ever again just in case something might happen?" I interrupted, and for a moment he seemed genuinely taken aback.

"I… hadn't thought about it like that…"

"Obviously not," I said, my voice much gentler now. "You're working yourself to the bone already, and we've been out here less than a day. If you're going to keep on protecting the people you love, you have to keep yourself in a fit state to protect them."

"I know… I just…" He made as if to stand, but I caught his wrist.

"Lie down," I whispered, and he looked at me. "Please. Please just lie down and get some sleep. I can take over the watch, if you're that worried - "

"No," he said, sinking back down beside me. "No, you need sleep… We…" He sighed. "We both do…"

I smiled.

"Well, then," I smiled, taking the blanket he had brought and throwing it over him. "I'm glad you're starting to see some sense." He pulled the duvet from over his head and I grinned through the gloom at him as his hair stood up on end. He sighed as he patted it back down, and I flattened out my blanket again to lie down on the left side of the double. For a moment he seemed surprised that I would move over to sleep on the edge of a bed and not in the middle, but then he seemed to understand.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to…"

"If it wasn't I would have said," I replied, shivering again as the cold started to come back. Mori paused a few moments, then tentatively laid down beside me and spread the second blanket over us. This moderately helped the returning chill, but a matter of minutes later I was chattering uncontrollably once more.

"God, it's so _cold!_" I hissed through my teeth, drawing my legs close to my chest to create a centre of heat or something of the sort, but this only made for a dull ache in my knees. A few moments later I felt something large and warm glide over my waist and hold me gently, and at my back was a wall of heat. It took a number of seconds to realise that it was Mori, holding me gently in his arms, his warm breath in my hair.

"Is this better?" he whispered, and I was almost too surprised to answer. "I can stop if you don't want me to. I realise it's probably - "

"No, no," I replied, letting my legs slowly down from the ball I had become. "This is actually is better…" I slowly closed my eyes as his warmth began to swell through me. "Thank you, Mori-senpai…" His fingers twitched about my waist.

" I really feel like we can be on first name terms by now, Haruhi," he said, and I opened my eyes again in surprise. "I don't think honorifics are really something to be missed nowadays."

"You mean…"

"You can call me Takashi, if you'd like."

"It might take me a while to get used to…"

"I wouldn't mind."

I smiled a little, and didn't speak for a moment. Then I said softly, "Takashi?" I felt his fingers twitch again.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Sleep well."

* * *

**Shout-out to Sevvus for their review, it honestly made my day! You're really too kind 3**

**Also props to the people guessing which Hosts die in the reviews - only time will tell if you're right ;)**


	19. In Sickness and In Health

_Massive thanks to AwesomeA101, whose multiple reviews were the primary reason I wanted to get down and continue with this story now that it's the holidays! And thank you again to everyone else who has been leaving reviews, they really are the main thing to kick me in the butt to keep going - I have a lot going on in my life right now, considering I'm going into my final exams to decide which university I go to (insert scream here), so getting any kind of feedback really makes all the difference in when I next update.  
_

_Anyway, that's probably enough of a pre-chapter ramble, so..._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Saturday 10th June 2014, 09:17**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

Cho awoke with a start, feeling dazed and confused. Blood rushed to her head as she sat up quickly, clutching a hand to her stomach. An uncomfortable pulsating was twisting about inside her, and her throat felt like it was convulsing.

"My butterfly?" Noboru asked, sitting up beside her, awoken by her sudden gasp. She shivered, her mouth oddly dry. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm going to be sick – "

Without another word she threw off the blankets, clapping a hand over her mouth. Noboru watched in confusion as she hurried toward the bathroom and knocked open the door with her shoulder. A moment later she had slipped to her knees, retching convulsively over the sink. He leapt out of bed to follow, repulsed at the way her back arched like some diseased and feral cat but nonetheless acting the gentleman: he took hold of her long hair and held it back from her face, saving it from the spattering of vomit.

Cho's whole body heaved with the force of her retching, knuckles white as she clutched the marble brim of the sink. In attempt to soothe her, Noboru rubbed a hand up and down her shaking back. A number of minutes passed in this manner, until Cho's gagging became less and less violent. Finally, she raised her head, still shivering, seeing her pallid complexion in the mirror before her: a wet shine dribbled down her chin from her trembling lips, the colour all but gone from her usually rosy cheeks.

"Are you alright?" Noboru asked gently, and she slowly turned her head to look at him. "What brought this on?"

"I… I don't know," she replied weakly, putting a hand over her stomach as though trying to feel for some strange source for her nausea.

Neither said anything for a while, Noboru continuing to stroke her back as she stood staring at herself in the mirror. As she wondered why she could have so suddenly become violently unwell, an unwelcome thought drifted to the front of her mind, causing her hand to convulse against her stomach.

"Jiro…"

"What is it?"

She turned her eyes on him anxiously.

"Jiro, do you know what date it is?"

"The… tenth, I think. Why?"

Cho's eyes widened, feeling her heartbeat quicken.

"Oh shit…" she whispered, raising her hands to cover her face. She began taking deep breaths, repeating those two words over and over again with increasing panic.

"What's wrong?" Noboru pressed, taking her wrists and holding away her hands so as to see her face.

"I'm late…"

Noboru frowned.

"Late?" he repeated, perplexed. He released her hands, instead cupping her face. "What do you mean, 'late'? Late for what?"

Cho didn't automatically reply, putting her hands again to her stomach. She looked down for a moment, and then back up to Noboru's deep blue eyes.

"I think I might be pregnant…"

* * *

**Sunday 11****th**** June 2014, 05:28**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

"Haru-chan…?" a small voice whispered from close by. "Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes, seeing Honey's bright brown ones right above me, glinting in the darkness. Judging by the intensity of the blackness I surmised it was just before dawn. It took me a few moments to realise why my head was hurting, but then I realised from the coldness of the hard surface beneath me that I was on the floor. How I had fallen out of bed, I didn't know, and neither did I know when. I tentatively picked myself up, feeling stiff and cold.

I sighed as I rubbed my eyes wearily, looking at the blonde third year beside me. Judging by the rumbling snores of the other boys all around us, he was the only one awake. I smiled vaguely at him, but in the darkness I doubted he could see it.

"I'm fine, Honey-senpai – sorry! Mitsukuni…"

He let out a soft giggle.

"Sorry, it's just a little weird…" I whispered, running a hand through my tousled hair. I could feel how greasy it had already become from lack of a proper wash, for we didn't dare waste what precious little water we had on things like thorough rinsing: so far we had made use of a lot of deodorant by way of waterless showers, so there was an almost constant smell of strong aerosol about us.

"It's okay," he assured me gently, touching a small, warm hand to my shoulder. "A lot of things are weird now, so I don't mind. You can call me whatever you want."

"Thank you," I replied, putting my hand over his and clenching it briefly as a sign of my gratitude. "You'd be surprised how much it means to have even the smallest bit of understanding nowadays…"

"I agree," the small boy said, something like a sigh in his voice. We didn't say much for a while, listening to the sounds of our friends. The rise and fall of their breaths was almost like a comfort, a quiet reminder that there was something protective and close in the all-encompassing dark. Despite the festering drones that stalked the streets and lower levels of the department store, I at least was able to feel safe on this floor because they were all here with me.

I could hear a small group of Henkō rattling the security doors to the floor intermittently, as though they knew there was something beyond them but weren't quite bothered to begin properly trying to break them down. I inclined my head in the direction of the unwelcome noise.

"Do you think we should get rid of that lot?" I asked under my breath, "Before they wake up the others."

"I think so," Honey agreed, getting to his feet and offering a small but strong hand to help me up. "I'm getting kinda peckish, anyway – we should run to the food court and see what we can get for breakfast: it'll save us going later, right?"

"Sounds like a plan," I said, stretching my arms out and shaking off the ache left by the floor. "I'll just get my sword, I guess…"

"Yeah, I need to get something too… Hika-chan and Kao-chan won't mind me borrowing their knives, will they?"

"I doubt it," I whispered, fumbling for the katana's hilt from where I had stored it under the bed for safe keeping. I pulled it out and it glinted ever so slightly in the tiny bit of light to break through the window, announcing the dawn. I heard the gentle scraping of metal as Honey retrieved the sharp knives from Hikaru's knapsack, and saw his slightly orange silhouette moving silently over to me.

Together we made our way in the direction of the security doors, seeing a trio of Henkō reaching their arms through the slats of the metal framework toward us as we approached. They snarled hungrily as I drew out my blade, but were quickly silenced with a few quick flashes of silver: two recoiled and fell instantly, knives sticking out of their foreheads, and I jabbed my sword through the third's right eye socket. Takashi had been right when it came to their weak spot, for their heads – or, more specifically, their hyperactive nervous systems – were the key to killing them. Assuming they weren't dead already, for the Henkō we had seen – though bloody and mutilated – didn't show any signs of decay that would normally be expected of 'zombies'. In which case it could be possible that they weren't the fabled sort of Undead, but were living humans somehow changed beyond recognition. Though it was evident their bite was infectious, for nothing else could have caused dad or Satoshi to have turned into what they did, it was impossible to know what caused it: but it wasn't entirely impossible that there could be a reversal. At least, that's what I was hoping.

"You're getting better with that, you know," Honey remarked, after I managed to decapitate a lone female Henkō as we descended a broken escalator, her scarred head spinning over the hand rail and falling to the bottom floor with a disgusting splattering sound.

"You think?" I asked, turning the oddly purpled blade over in my hands. "I didn't think I'd have made much progress in just a few days." I paused for a moment to think about this, recalling the last two days of makeshift training I'd received on hold to properly hold and use the formidable blade. There had been very little to practice on, but nonetheless it has been a thorough introduction. "Maybe Takashi's just a good tutor, I don't know…"

At this Honey let out a small breath of laughter, though he hastily tried to stifle it. I turned my eyes on him questioningly, though I couldn't make out his face for I was casting a shadow over his tiny frame from the warm dawn light shining in through the window behind us.

"About you and Takashi… Are you... You know?"

I frowned, but before I could ask what he meant he was throwing a knife at a Henkō that had appeared from behind a long line of vending machines.

"I don't understand," I said as the creature fell backward into a machine, causing a can to fall out of its place and clatter down to the collection pocket. Honey sighed and continued on down the escalator to retrieve the knife from the Henkō's forehead. I followed, and he turned to look up at me.

"I feel like you _should_ understand, Haru-chan," he said softly, fixing me with almost pitying eyes. "I don't know why you wouldn't."

"Clearly I don't," I replied, sheathing the blade and looking down at him in confusion. He rolled his big brown eyes and sighed once again, jerking his little blonde head in the direction of the next downward escalator to the food court below.

"Why does it always take you so long to figure out the important things?" he asked as we walked, wiping off the knife in his hands on his trousers. I chose not to answer, though my frown deepened slightly. "It took you the longest time to realise how much we cared about you… And now you're doing it again."

"I still don't quite… know what I've done…"

Honey stopped, and for a moment didn't speak or move. Then he looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes full of wonder and ever so slight sadness.

"I guess you really don't realise, huh?"

"Realise what?"

"How much Takashi loves you."

I was so taken aback by this that I was almost thankful for the sudden screech of a group of Henkō to stop me from having to form a response. In an instant Honey's air changed, going from docile and contemplative to ruthless at the drop of a hat. He pushed off from the escalator stair and leapt through the air to kick one of the gangling figures squarely between the eyes, flipping backward and releasing the knives outward like throwing stars. I took the opportunity to run beneath his spinning frame and slice the one he had kicked directly in two, legs falling left and torso falling right. Dark blood spilled out on the tiled floor like a broken fountain, and the creature yowled tormentedly before Honey landed beside me and thrust a third knife through its forehead.

With two still left, I wasted no time in thrusting the blade through another's chest and dragging it upward, cutting open its face like an anatomical model. It felt sickening to be doing this to something that once had been human, once like me, but there was no other way: it was them or me, as much as I had always hated having to decide. I'd always been a selfless enough person, and in the past I'd been sacrificial even when I knew I shouldn't have been. It was my primary weakness: to always put others before myself. The only way I could justify my actions now was to tell myself it was all to protect the Host Club.

As the blade broke free of the top of the Henkō's scalp, I heard Honey cry out. I turned in time to see him slipping on the blood coating the floor, falling flat on his back with the last Henkō baring down on him, her eyes manic and wide.

"No!" I cried, almost falling myself as I hurried to stop her. "Don't you dare hurt him!" Without thinking I threw myself forward, barrelling her down and collapsing on top of her. I felt those abnormally strong hands grasping my neck, trying to pull me down, teeth gnashing to try and bite whatever part of me it could reach. Gasping from the sheer force of their hold, I sliced through her elbows and the hands dropped dully from my neck: screeching, the Henkō flailed her stump arms wildly as I brought the blade down between her eyes.

"Haru-chan…"

Panting, raising a shaking hand to nurse my neck, I turned my head slowly to look at the tiny third year. His eyes were alight with fear, his light hair matted with blood from where we had fallen.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and his eyes simply welled with tears. He threw his arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder.

"Please don't ever do that again…!" he managed to choke out, gripping to me as tightly as he could.

"I – "

"She almost bit you!"

"She didn't come anywhere close to – "

"Please don't scare me like that, Haru-chan!"

Before I could say anything, I was alerted to the sound of footsteps quickly approaching. Scared of another Henkō, I gripped tightly to the sword handle and made to move Honey from around my shoulders, but then I realised the sound was coming from above. I looked up to see Takashi racing down the escalator, silhouetted against the light piercing through the large window.

"I heard shouting, what's – " He stopped as he saw us, surrounded by Henkō and covered in blood, Honey draped over me in a state of hysteria. Even at such a distance I could see his eyes widen, what little colour already in his face drain to nothing. "No…" For a moment he seemed rooted to the spot, paralysed, but then he began to sprint down the stairs two at a time. "No – no – no – _no!_"

He fell to his knees beside us, taking hold of my face with both hands.

"You're not – they didn't – Haruhi, you – "

"I – I'm fine," I hurried to say, my heartbeat suddenly increased beyond that which was caused by the Henkō attack at his touch. His eyes scouted my face, the incredible fatigue and worry causing them to shine with newly forming tears.

"You're…"

"They didn't bite me, Takashi," I assured him, not noticing that Honey had relinquished hold of me. "I'm fine… I promise…"

A tear fell unbidden down his cheek, but before I had a chance to say any more he had moved suddenly closer, and I then realised that he was kissing me. His lips were warm on mine; so why then did I suddenly feel so cold?


	20. Noise and Silence

**Sunday 11****th**** June 2014, 05:41**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

For a time, everything seemed still. Silent. I was too shocked to acknowledge anything but the immediate source of my confusion. He was kissing me, and I didn't know how to react. His hands were gentle as they cupped my cheeks, but there was something intense about the way his lips pressed into mine: it was almost as if it were his last action on earth.

Slowly I managed to raise a quivering hand, and pushed him away. I looked up at him, into those powerfully dark eyes that still shone with tears. I could still feel my heart beating faster than it ever had before, and the odd warmth that lingered around my mouth was alien and unsettling.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, the sound shaking in my throat. "Why did you…"

"I'm sorry," he replied, letting go of me and drawing away. He turned away his head, fixing his eyes on the floor and clenching his fists against his knees. "I should have asked first… I was just – just so relieved, I… Sorry…"

"It's…it's okay, but…" I paused, suddenly realising that Honey had vanished. I thought I could almost hear his tiny footsteps from the floor above, and quietly resented being left alone after what had just happened. I returned my attention to Takashi, whose face was beginning to regain colour at increasing rapidity. "I guess I just wasn't expecting anything like that."

"I can imagine…"

I didn't answer for almost a whole minute, still reeling with shock. The silence was almost deafening.

"Why did you kiss me?" I asked, and he looked at me, and I was almost pained at the expression of distress on his face. He opened his mouth to reply, faltered, then opened it again.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" he said, his deep voice suddenly high and tremulous. "I'm in love with you, Haruhi. I have been for a long time. You can't tell me you didn't notice…"

I bowed my head, trying to avoid looking at him.

"I can't say that I didn't," I conceded, staring down at my blood-soaked knees. "And there were times that I thought I felt the same, but… But I – I never thought it would be like this…"

"What are you saying?" I heard him say, much closer than I had thought: I looked up to see him right before me, worry renewed in his eyes.

"I can't give you what you want, Takashi…"

I could almost see his heart sink from the way his eyes seemed to dull.

"Haruhi – "

"Listen to me, please," I pressed on, sitting up higher and taking hold of his shoulders. "It's not safe for us to do this: it's just not. It's the kind of people we are to put each other first, but what about everyone else? We can't afford any kind of distraction – not anymore…" He didn't say anything, instead turning his head away: I turned it back, holding it on either side and refusing to let him avoid the reality of the situation. "Takashi, I care about you – so, _so much _– and I love you, but… I just…"

"I understand…"

"I don't think you do," I said, closing my eyes and bowing my head against his. I could feel his breath warm against my cheeks. I sniffed, clenching my eyes tighter shut as they threatened to well with tears. "Just know that… if it were any other time, I would have kissed you back." I felt something small and wet against my fingertips, and realised that he was crying. His whole body shivered for a moment as he attempted to suppress it, his breath shaky on my face. My insides ached, and I felt like the only way to escape this awful numbness was to sink into the floor and never resurface. "I need to protect everyone in the Host Club as much as I'm able to: they're the only family I have left - " My voice cracked horribly, and I pursed my lips tightly to avoid saying anything more.

I felt his strong arms unexpectedly wrap around me, pulling me closer to him and closing me in an embrace of complete affection and comfort. Despite my overwhelming desire to do so, to relinquish at least some of the emotions bricking up my entire system, I was somehow unable to cry. It felt I was screaming from the inside out, so full of confusion and anger and remorse that I didn't know why I couldn't bring myself to just let it all go.

"If it's okay with you…" he breathed in my ear, his arms quivering around me slightly. "Could I… maybe kiss you again?"

"Takashi?"

"Please…" He gripped me tighter, bowing his head into my shoulder. "I don't want the first time I kissed you to be the last time, too."

I didn't answer automatically. Instead I said nothing for a few moments, contemplating just how much suffering I had put him through for so long, only now to reveal that his hopes would never come to fruition. I sighed, drawing myself away from him: I slipped through his arms as if they belonged to a rag doll, sinking to his sides as his head drooped hopelessly from my shoulder. I surveyed him through heavy eyes, like a husk of the charismatic young athlete he had been just a month ago: filthy, bloodied, tear-stained, and exhausted, he was broken before me. I barely knew if there was a way to fix it.

I slid my fingers through his hair, tangled and wiry, until my hand just gently touched his chin. I raised his head, cheeks glistening with tear tracks in the glowing orange light of the dawn. My lips twitched involuntarily upward in the very smallest of smiles, before I bent my head and kissed him.

It was soft, just barely contact, but I lingered there for longer than I knew: for now I finally understood what I wanted, which was what I should never hope to pursue in the world that no longer allowed it. Before I could give in to my own human weakness, before I could let him take my face in his hands again and hold me there to kiss forever, I forced myself away.

I didn't know what a person was supposed to say after something like that, and to avoid having to think about it at all I hastily got to my feet, turning away. I couldn't look at him, couldn't bring myself to see his eyes. Not now.

"I… I'm going to get us some more food," I said hoarsely, turning my head slightly in the direction of the run-down supermarket. "You go back up and check on the others."

"You shouldn't go alone," he began to say as I bent to retrieve the katana from the floor.

"We already took care of the Henkō on this floor," I explained, slotting the blade through a belt loop and resting a hand on the hilt. "If there were any strays around we would have known about them already."

"I still don't want you to – "

"I just think it's best if we're not too close around one another," I said, still not looking round as I heard him get to his feet behind me. "Just for a little while…"

"I… yeah, I guess that makes sense…"

I could hear the defeat in his voice. I wanted to turn around and apologise, but I knew that hurting him was the only way to protect him: keeping my friends alive was the only incentive I had anymore, and I knew he felt the same. We all did. It was all we had left in the world to work collectively to protect one another: we couldn't afford even the tiniest weak link by way of some high school romance that came at the worst possible time. It was true that I cared deeply for Takashi, but I cared for my other friends every bit as much as I did him: the only difference was the manner of love I had for him.

"Just promise me that you'll come back."

It was this that made me give in. I looked at him, his face burning with unease. I nodded fractionally.

"I promise," I said, and he nodded in return. I paused a moment, my insides suddenly contorting. "And I also promise that… um…" I pursed my lips and closed my eyes, opening them again with a small sigh. "I promise, when this is all over… I'll come back to you."

* * *

**Wednesday 14th June 2014, 21:36**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"So close…" Noboru muttered to himself, squeezing impatiently upon the pipette to release drop by tiny drop of bright violet liquid onto the Agar plate on the table top before him. Discarded all around were similar plates, the bin overflowing with papers to the point of redundancy, the surrounding floor, tables, chairs and window sills littered with charts, results tables and various algorithmic documentations, all with varying degrees of stickiness from the many spilled plates of failed Agar tests. "So nearly there…"

"Jiro?"

The doctor looked up to see Cho in the doorway, hand subconsciously at her stomach and face pinched and tired looking. He pulled that well-rehearsed smile onto his face and beckoned her over with a wave of his gloved hand.

"What is it, my butterfly?" he asked as she approached, her hands fidgeting together slightly.

"I just… lately I've been hearing these noises…"

"Noises?"

"Since Wakaba-san and Domyoji-san left the other night," Cho explained, settling precariously on the edge of a stool stacked high with papers and fiddling with a fraying string at her sleeve. "I don't know why, but since they ran off, the building seems so… so…"

"Yes?"

Cho paused, a hand slightly raised as if she might grab her elusive answer from the air.

"Well, I don't know exactly," she admitted, sighing and lowering her hand. "But now that it's just you and I, it almost feels like there's something else here that isn't… normal."

"I'm not sure I understand," Noboru said, placing down the glass pipette and fixing her with questioning eyes. She looked back at him, a slight frown at her brow.

"I don't understand either," she said, "I can't understand why those two men would just run away like they did." She folded her arms and gazed absently at the floor as she pondered their sudden disappearance: having woken early in the morning from an onset of nausea, to find the building empty on all three floors but for herself and Noboru, Cho found her recurring phobia of isolation increasing in intensity over the past two days. "But, um… like I said, I keep hearing noises. Screeching, almost."

"Screeching?" he repeated, cocking his head to the side as if in question. "I think that's most likely those _things _outside and down the mountain – I shouldn't pay much more attention to it."

"That's what I thought at first," the young woman assented slowly, still staring down at the cluttered floor. "But the things I hear sometimes seem like they're coming from… from inside the building. Or, even, below it."

Noboru faltered, and it was lucky for him that Cho wasn't looking at him, for a small fraction of colour was now noticeably drained from his face. Hastily he laughed, and it was a good thing he was so natural a liar.

"Ah, I must have forgotten to tell you!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet and putting a comforting hand on her shoulders. "So stupid of me! Those are probably the monkeys!"

"Monkeys?" Cho frowned, taken aback by such an absurd justification to the noises that infested her anxieties. "What do you mean, monkeys?"

"This laboratory belongs to my sixth brother," Noboru explained, "He's a neurobiologist, which I may have explained before – it's impossible to remember now! – and some of his latest work included studying anthropomorphic mentalities of chimps compared to humans. The basement is full of them, all in cages and usually calm enough: I've been feeding them every day, you must have noticed me going down at some point?"

Cho shifted, smiling awkwardly.

"Uh, no, I don't actually think I have…" she conceded. Noboru rolled his eyes as if pretending to scold her, playfully shaking her shoulders before letting go.

"Ah, clearly we've been working you too hard, my love!" he said. "Anyway, they've been getting somewhat rowdy lately so I've taken to locking the basement door just in case – probably angry about the way I've had to cut their rations to supply us, which may be why those two scientists decided to up and out…"

"Fools," Cho sighed, shaking her head sadly at the thought of what could have happened to them. Little did she know that the noises she heard would answer her questions, for the cries she heard were those of Wakaba and Domyoji: with the new strain of Cho's hormonal erraticism from her pregnancy, Noboru felt he could barely stand any whisper of insubordination. As such, when he had caught the two scientists whispering together about their plans to escape 'the madhouse', finally realising that Akihiko's death was Noboru's doing, he didn't dare let them do so: he needed test subjects for the antidote, after all.

* * *

_And I bet you fuckers thought there would finally be some happiness for Haruhi and Takashi. GUESS AGAIN!_

_Further tragedy and torment to follow _(◕‿◕✿)


	21. Réveillez-vous

**Monday 19****th**** June 2014, 15:39**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

I stared blankly out at the space before me, lying on my side upon the floor by my bed. There was little to do anymore but exist nowadays, despite Tamaki's best efforts to bring us back to activity. I could hear him attempting to teach an extremely uninterested Yasuchika how to play the 'commoner game' Go Fish with a deck of worn old cards he had managed to find, Antoinette stretched out on the bed behind him. The twins were practicing combat techniques under Mitsukuni's instruction, and Kyoya was busily sorting through our current supplies for what must have been the dozenth time in the last half hour.

He was becoming increasingly nervous, and it was highly noticeable by now. Often he was the last to bed and the earliest to rise, constantly counting the rations and ordering them into size and then into amounts, and then back to size. His newfound edge was almost the same as Tamaki's had used to be, but while Tamaki hid his trough encouragement, Kyoya wasn't able to do so. It had never been Kyoya's nature to hope, he who was so precise and planned out, so now that certainty was gone he didn't seem sure what to do with himself. Whenever I turned my eyes on him, even the smallest glance was enough to tell how afraid he was.

But something else I had noticed was that whenever I did look at him he tried harder to hide it than he did anyone else. I didn't know if this had something to do with his ingrained need to assert himself as my senior, or a leader of some sort, or something else entirely: I'd never understood the way his mind worked, let alone now it seemed so scrambled. It was all I wanted to hug him the way he had hugged me the night dad had died, to show him the same comfort he had shown me. The only thing keeping me from talking to him about his fear was knowing that to do so would severely wound his pride, which was all he had left.

Chinks of light illuminated the dust specs swirling slowly down from the ceiling, and I followed their steady descent until my eyes fell upon a fast-approaching shadow on the ground. I sat up slowly as Takashi approached, dark blood spattered across his cheek and dripping down his neck, supply bag bursting open and dropping cardboard boxes and cans on the floor behind him in his haste. Kyoya looked round at the sound, and Tamaki stood up, laying down his cards on the ground before him: Yasuchika took the opportunity to swipe them away and scatter them across the floor to halt their game entirely.

"Why so much?" Tamaki asked, hurrying over to relieve some of the weight.

"This is the last of it," Takashi explained, shrugging off the backpack and cricking his neck. Behind me the twins exchanged worried glances as they lowered their knives.

"You mean – "

" – we're running dry?"

Takashi paused, but then nodded once apologetically.

"Not again…" Hikaru groaned, running a hand irritably through his fringe.

"We haven't even been here that long," Kaoru added, fiddling nervously with a fraying string at the end of his sleeve. Tamaki looked over at them, stacking boxes in his arms.

"You forget we didn't get here until a month after this whole ordeal started," he reminded them, "There wasn't much when we arrived anyway."

"I thought it best to get everything and save us any extra trips," Takashi continued, bending to retrieve a slightly battered can of tomato soup from the floor.

"Good idea," Kyoya said, beckoning him and Tamaki over to the queen sized bed he had taken up with his sorting arrangements. He caught sight of me looking over my shoulder to him, and swallowed hastily before straightening his posture a little. "Haruhi, could you come and help unpack, please?"

"Of course," I replied, making my way over to the three of them. Tamaki had already set to pulling out bags of dried up rice and arguing with Kyoya about where to place them in his pristine collection of smallest to largest. As he stepped aside to point out to his best friend that the rice itself was small compared to the large packaging, I slid into his position beside Takashi. I put my hand inside the large bag to retrieve a packet of nuts, another took it at the same time.

"Sorry," Takashi murmured, letting go almost instantly and taking hold of something else.

"It's okay," I replied. He didn't say anything else. The two of us unpacked together in silence, as if ignoring one another, to the accompaniment of Kyoya lecturing Tamaki on the system he had drawn up to organise rations in the most efficient manner possible. Every now and then I looked up at Takashi to try and catch his eye, or at least gage what he was thinking, but his expression was so guarded I didn't think it worth pursuing.

Things were almost the way they were before last week, save for moments like this. It was almost as if nothing had happened, but only almost. There was no changing it, and for the time being there was no changing my answer. I stood by my decision even if it was hurtful to him, but it shouldn't be my fault if he didn't think he could be himself around me anymore. At meals with everyone else there he gave them little reason to suspect how he felt, but when we were in such close proximity with no one really paying attention it was like we had only just met again. Even when teaching me how to use my katana he was so distant he may as well have been mentoring a ghost. I thought it almost childish to treat things as if we weren't still close, because I would never choose to hurt him unless it was absolutely for a reason: keeping the only people I had left in the world safe under my full protection was the best possible reason I could supply.

"We're done," he said, snapping me out of my reverie. I hadn't even realised that we had finished until then, and already Takashi had walked away and was reaching inside his pocket for a rag to wipe off the blood on his face.

"This is just like the syndicate all over again…" Hikaru muttered as he came to stand with us around what was now the very last of our supplies, barely enough to fill the bed.

"Nothing's permanent," I told him, and he sighed heavily.

"How much do you think we have left?" Kaoru asked, looking at Kyoya nervously. Kyoya opened his mouth to respond, faltered, and closed it again. A frown came onto his face, and his lips began to quiver as he just barely whispered incoherently under his breath as he counted.

"Depending on how much we can restrain ourselves," he said slowly, "Between the nine of us, I'd say we have enough for another two, maybe three weeks." The twins looked at one another and then at me, as though willing me to ask what I knew they were thinking.

"And then what?" I said quietly. Kyoya looked at me, his eyes brimming with words that he didn't utter out loud. This was enough of a response for the twins, who peeled themselves away from either side of me and hurried off together to the far reaches of the floor. I sighed wearily, running a hand through my hair and gripping at the crown of my head as a headache showed signs of appearing. Kyoya made to move away, but I quickly dropped my hand and grabbed his wrist. "Kyoya – "

He stopped, his eyes locked on me with a mixture of surprise and sadness.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," I said under my breath, "You're doing so much for us, and I know you're scared, but we're all scared too. We're relying on you, Kyoya." He made as if to interrupt, but I pressed on. "For what it's worth, I'll always be here if you need me."

"Haruhi – "

"Always." He fell silent, the surprise in his eyes now much clearer than the sadness. I bowed my head, gaze falling to his hand in my grip. I could both see and feel it shaking. "When I'm scared I try and do what people I look up to do, but how am I supposed to do what you do if you're scared too?"

"You – "

His reply was cut short by a sudden, unexpected noise. It was a scream, high and unnaturally full of fear.

"What's that?" Tamaki asked, running to the window as Antoinette began to howl. We all hurried to look alongside him, pressing ourselves to the glass. In the street below could be a seen two figures sprinting madly, pursued by a dark mass of writhing Henkō. One was considerably smaller than the other, and it took less than a second to realise it was a child.

"Other survivors…" I said breathlessly, shocked to see them: we hadn't seen another person outside our group the whole time we had been out here.

"We have to help them," Tamaki shouted, pushing off from the window ledge and racing for his bag. "C'mon!" I was already following before he had retrieved the metal piping he had replaced his gun with, snatching my katana from under my bed and hurrying toward the main door. Soon after we heard the others chasing down their tools and racing to catch up. Sprinting down the many flights of escalators, leaping the countless bodies of fallen Henkō and hastily dispatching of any to have found their way back up, we burst through the front doors and out into the street.

Instantly we were engaged in combat, the screaming of the two survivors almost lost to the roaring of some seventy of the creatures. By now I felt justly confident in my abilities, no longer feeling apart with the blade. It was almost a part of me, an extension of my arm and my passion to live as I dodged between the erratic snatching of the Henkō around me, blood spurting into the air at my attacks. Two came at me from the right, and I kicked one squarely in the chest as the other leapt head first into my blade.

From then everything was a blur, pure adrenaline melding together the noise and the blood and the flashes of silver between bodies both human and not. From what I was able to tell, everyone was fighting with all they had: the twins joined forces to tackle them to the ground and slice them in tandem, leaving Tamaki clear ground to smash the surrounding Henkō with the heavy swing of the lead pipe; Mitsukuni and his brother did much the same though with far more grace, their athletic prowess propelling them through the air like bullets, weaving in and out of Takashi as he thrust out his knives with such precision as to down body after body; Kyoya I could not see, and for a moment I was afraid something had happened to him. In that moment I let down my guard.

I turned about to try and catch sight of him, about to call out his name when I tripped over a fallen Henkō behind me and sending me crashing to the ground. Suddenly a female appeared over me, its face snarling and gnashing a foot above mine. The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I was frozen with fear. It dropped its head to close in, but as its mouth opened wide it was suddenly ripped backward and away from me. Upside down I saw Kyoya there, eyes alight and manic as he grabbed the Henkō by her long, straggly hair and plunged a knife deep into her forehead. Even though it was surely dead from such a strike, he withdrew the knife and stuck it again, and again, before throwing the creature aside and reaching out a hand shining with blood to help me up.

"Are you okay?" he panted, his whole body trembling. I nodded quickly and reached out to take his hand, throat suddenly very dry. He pulled me to my feet and gripped me tightly in a kind of one armed hug, before suddenly releasing me and disappearing once again. Shaken by his impulsive ferocity toward that Henkō, I tightened my hold of the katana handle to keep from dropping it.

After that there weren't so many left, but still they kept up a powerful fight. Our efforts to dispatch them all were halted momentarily by another ear-splitting scream, so loud it shocked even the Henkō to stop moving. Every eye was drawn to what had caused it, and it was the child, his enormous blue eyes fixed upon his companion: a woman with curly blonde hair to match his seemed to fall in slow motion to the ground, a large chunk of flesh ripped from her shoulder and exposing the bone, a group of four Henkō bearing down on her.

Immediately Tamaki had begun toward them, throwing two away with one swipe and kicking back a third. The fourth slipped sideways as a shuriken stuck itself into the crown of its bent head, falling onto the woman's splayed legs. Mitsukuni and Tamaki battled the remaining three until they stopped writhing, the rest of us dealing finishing blows to the very last of the horde. As the last dropped to the ground, its scream echoing down the street, everything feel eerily silent.

We all looked around at one another, panting and shaking, staggering into a group and checking each other for injuries: all, save for Tamaki. Instead he had dropped to his knees beside the woman and was quickly removing his jacket and bundling it beneath her head as she spluttered convulsively. His hands worked frantically to stem the flow of blood from her shoulder, even though he knew it was by far too late. It took all of thirty seconds for her to stop moving. He bowed his head solemnly, and the little boy began to inch slowly closer, his whole body quivering with fear.

"Mama?" he said, high voice cracking. It was a sound so pitiful it seemed to resonate through the silence. I looked round to see him falling to the ground at his mother's side, touching a trembling hand to her cheek. "Mama?" he repeated, louder his time, as if she were asleep. "_R… __Réveillez-vous_…"

Tamaki's eyes widened slightly in surprise, raising his head to look at the boy, who now had tears rolling down his cheeks.

"_S'il vous plaît se réveiller…_" The boy had taken hold of her shoulders and was shaking her, trying to wake her from this strange slumber. "_Mama_! _Pourquoi ne pas vous réveillez, allez!_"

"_Vous ne pouvez pas la réveiller,_" Tamaki said, and the boy looked up, shocked to see this Japanese stranger speaking his language. He sniffed, lip trembling.

"_Vous ne savez pas que__!_" he cried, continuing to shake his mother's shoulders. "_Elle va se réveiller! Elle doit!_"

I exchanged glances with the others, unsure of what was happening. None of us could speak French, even Kyoya – at least, not in the way Tamaki could. It was all we could do to stand and watch the unknown communication unfold.

"_Si elle le fait, elle ne sera pas votre maman,_" Tamaki continued, his voice hushed as he reached out a hand to steady the boy's quivering shoulders. "_Elle sera comme un des mauvais monstres. Vous devez quitter maintenant._"

"_Ma maman est pas un monstre!"_ The boy's efforts to shake his mother awake were frantic now, almost violent, and Tamaki had to take hold of his wiry wrists to pull them away and stop him.

"_Tu ne comprends pas, mais je vais essayer de vous aider_," He explained, trying to keep his voice level as the boy struggled hysterically against him. "_Calmez vous s'il vous plait.__"_ For a moment it seemed like the boy would begin kicking and screaming and biting, but as his tears renewed the fight quite went out of him as he collapsed into sobs that shook his tiny frame. Slowly Tamaki let go of him and instead put an arm consolingly round him, saying gently, "_Venez avec nous maintenant et nous allons vous garder en sécurité."_

"_Ma mère va vraiment pas se réveiller, elle va_?" he sniffled.

"_J'ai bien peur que non_…" Tamaki conceded, casting a glance over to us in our little huddle. The boy sniffled again, and raised his head. His big blue eyes swam with tears like an ocean, and as Tamaki looked back at him he was struck by just how much this small blonde boy reminded him of his younger self. Instantly he became filled with a strong sense of determination. "_Mais si vous venez avec nous, je promets de toujours faire de mon mieux pour prendre soin de vous."_

"_Vous promettez?_" the boy repeated, and Tamaki nodded assuringly.

"_Je suis Tamaki,"_ he said with an encouraging sort of smile, getting to his feet and extending a hand for the boy to take. "_Quel est votre nom?"_

The boy eyed his hand carefully, as though suspicious it might suddenly turn into a snake and bite him. Then he reached out hs own small hand an answered, "_Je m'appelle Grantaire."_

* * *

**_To anyone wanting a translation of Tamaki and Grantaire's conversation, here it is :_**

" Mummy ? Mummy ? W…Wake up… Please wake up… Mummy ! Why aren't you waking up, come on ! "

" She won't wake up. "

" You don't know that ! She will wake up ! She has to ! "

" If she does, she won't be your mommy. She will be like one of the bad monsters. You need to leave her now. "

" My mummy is not a monster ! "

" You don't understand, but I'm trying to help you. Please calm down. Come with us now and we will keep you safe.

" My mummy really won't wake up, will she ? "

" I'm afraid not. But if you come with us, I promise to always do my best to look after you. "

" You promise ? "

" I'm Tamaki. What's your name ? "

" My name's Grantaire. "

**_The first person to get why I chose the name 'Grantaire' wins a prize! Haha just kidding I have nothing to offer but painfully slow update time and moderately interesting plot development with a lot of grammatical errors…_**


	22. Affection in its Many Forms

_Big thanks to my new followers, you're the reason I'm writing this at 11pm after a five-hour textiles exam. I'm trying to get more regular updates so I'm not too distracted by finals and go another six months or so with nothing new – thanks for keeping me so motivated!_

* * *

**Monday 19****th**** June 2014, 23:06**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

"I still don't understand why Tono is so set on keeping him…" I heard Hikaru mutter under his breath through the darkness. I tore my eyes away from the tiny lump under the blankets to look in the direction of the twins' bed: they sat cross-legged against the headboard, side by side, exchanging conversation in undertones. Hikaru's head was inclined toward his brother's, attempting to close in the sound to just them. "He knows we're running out of supplies, right…?"

Kaoru sighed with a feeble sort of shrug, drawing up his legs and resting his sharp shin on his knees. His eyes wandered the room, but, suddenly aware he was being watched, flicked to me. I shook my head slightly at him, inclining it toward Grantaire's sleeping form: Kaoru's bright green eyes followed.

The child was collapsed under the blankets, curled up into a ball and gripping a hand tightly to the pillow beneath his small blonde head. His tiny frame rose and fell with his deep breaths, mouth dropped open to release quiet snores. Tamaki sat silently beside him, one leg drawn to his chest as he gazed down sadly at the boy in his bed. There was a deep melancholy in his eyes, mingled with a strange sort of affection. The intensity of his stare resembled that of a father at a hospital bedside, and I felt a surge of great fondness for him – he who called himself my 'father'.

I'd never before had the time or patience for his paternal outbursts, but now I realised how extremely lucky I was to have someone in my life who cared for me so much he considered me his family.

Grantaire shifted in his sleep, fingers clenching against the dusty cotton of the pillow, grimacing slightly as if caught in a bad dream. Instinctively Tamaki reached out a hand and placed it gently amid the boy's golden curls, stroking his hair softly as he would Antoinette to calm her down. A sad sort of smile traced his lip, barely visible in the moonlight.

"He probably does know," Kaoru whispered, but I didn't look round. "But it's not in his heart to leave anyone behind."

"Kaoru – "

"It's okay, Hikaru," the younger Hitatchiin twin breathed, "I'm scared too. But… you know that… that I'll always be here for you."

"I know…" Hikaru replied, the faintest quiver in his voice.

I didn't feel like listening any further. It felt almost like an intrusion to do so. Lifting the blanket over my legs and shuffling down from my sitting position, I laid myself down, trying my best not to wake Takashi, who breathed deeply beside me. I tried to stifle a yawn as I shut my eyes, shifting my head a little against the pillow to get more comfortable.

I lay there for a number of minutes, still hearing the twins whispering from their bed, but the words were masked by the snores sounding from all around, punctuated by the occasional mattress spring squeaking or the rustle of fabric as one of the boys turned over in their sleep. Soon it was Takashi who turned over, his face now level with mine on his pillow. I could feel his breath warm my skin, slow and soft, his bent knees touching mine beneath the blanket. I opened my eyes in mild surprise, for he was very much the sort to fall asleep in one position and wake up in exactly the same place.

The moonlight shining through the large windows silhouetted his messy black hair against the darkness, the curve of his carved cheek illuminated with a soft white glow. For some reason I didn't feel as tired as I had a few moments before, aching for sleep but now suddenly awake. It was almost as if I didn't want to sleep purely so I could look longer upon the face I could barely see for the shadows. Was this truly what I was reduced to, I wondered: so enamoured as to awaken to watch him sleep for an unknown time? Was I letting my guard down so soon?

I shouldn't have kissed him that second time, even though he had asked. I shouldn't have done that to him, or to myself, because now that he had become so distant I already was questioning him. If he knew I had promised myself to him, why did he now act like he didn't want that at all? Had my denial wounded him too severely, or was he pushing me away on purpose: perhaps it was to protect me in the way I wanted to protect him, by disassociating love from duty, or perhaps everything started running cold the moment I turned him away…?

My eyes flitted across the shadow of his face, as if it might give me some sort of clue. The only thing that came to my mind, however, was just how much I wanted him to be happy. I knew I couldn't blame myself, and neither could I blame him: it was the world, the swarm of creatures that had begun to separate us; to separate all of us. Tensions were too high already, whispers spreading in the night against each other. It wasn't safe for us not to trust one another, because any kind of malcontent could cause any amount of chaos. And, from all too much experience out in this world, that would almost certainly end up being fatal.

All I wanted was to find some way, any way at all, to end this nightmare with nobody else getting hurt. The chances of that ever happening, however, were perhaps a million to one. But hope, the hope that someday, somehow, there could be safety and happiness, was all I could hold on to now. And I would do anything to ensure it if given the chance.

Takashi stirred before me, unconsciously moving an inch or so closer to me. He was so close our noses almost touched in the darkness. It felt so nice, so easy, just to have him near me without him appearing physically uncomfortable. His gentle warmth flowed through me as I lay there beside him, gazing through the gloom at his softly fluttering eyelids. He was dreaming, about what I didn't know. I just hoped it was happy.

The tiniest of smiles twitched at the very corner of my lip, and I sighed quietly. I was filled suddenly with the urge to kiss him, or just touch him, to show him the same affection Tamaki did Grantaire. In so little time I had begun to miss what we had been at school: texting day and night, reading together at club meetings, sharing lunch, riding the train together, chatting in the corridor between classes, choosing costumes for each other at club events. Everything was so incredibly distant now. I missed so dearly his smile, that subtle curve in his lips that faded slowly into laughter: I missed the feeling of fondness I felt each and every day when I saw that tall boy walking toward me down the hall, blue jacket undone and tie swinging with the motion of his paces, bag rising and falling against his hip as he raised a hand in greeting, dark eyes brightened to see me again.

I missed the innocence of the boy I had lost when he lost his brother.

Overwhelmed with apology, I leaned forward and touched my lips to his forehead in a kiss, wishing with all my heart that it wouldn't wake him: whatever dream world he was in would always be better than the reality we now lived in.

* * *

**Thursday 22n****d**** June 2014, 06:18**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

Cho stood at the balcony, gazing out at the mountains swirling with the morning mist. The chill breeze fluttered through her long dark hair, trembling her eyelashes. One pale hand rested on the weathered railing, the other at her stomach. She was almost positive now, certain that the unease within her wasn't simply fear anymore. But now she was more afraid than ever: how was she supposed to take care of a child in this world? She didn't know anything about children, had never given it any thought at all. She'd always been too ambitious to consider a life as a mother, barely felt any sort of maternal warmth toward toddlers she saw in their prams wheeling down the street, even when they looked up at her with wonder in their big bright eyes, waving their fat little hands at her. The only time she had ever held a child was when she was one herself, five years old and cradling her new-born cousin on a family visit, touching uncertainly at the tufts of black hair sprouting from his overlarge head, his dark grey eyes blinking up at her with a strange sort of frown. After a few moments he had begun to laugh, a gurgling, high-pitched giggle that was so warm and bright she couldn't help but beam down at him as he raised a pudgy hand and touched it to her cheek, patting her happily. She'd never felt much affection for any child since, because none were as endearing as he had been.

At the thought of him, how much she dearly wanted to know he was safe, she sighed deeply. Her heart felt heavy within her chest, sinking in contrast to the steadily rising sun that had begun to paint the dark sky with streaks of bloody red and gold. It had been so long since she had seen him, heard his voice. There were times, like this, that she wished she could hear it again: such was her heartbreak at being unable to reach his phone a month ago. Now all she heard anymore were the groans of the creatures swarming the mountainside, men and women staggering dumbly about, hunched over and fighting each other brutally for the carcass of a dead animal they had come across.

It filled her with a dull, throbbing pain to think their hypothesis was now proven incorrect: because of the initial insanity of the experiment, the extreme difference in decay of the male and female test subjects, they had surmised that women were not affected because of the chemical differences of the X and Y chromosomes; the high mutation rate of Y caused the men to explode with the serum, flooding them with the toxic substance, though by now they realised the women suffered a far worse fate, degenerating slowly and more painfully. Cho's only comfort was to see that, despite their presence, there were fewer female creatures than male, leading her to think that X still had some small immunity to the serum. This was what now lead their journey to completing the antidote.

Perhaps it had something to do with woman's extreme hardiness, their ability to incubate life within them? She couldn't be sure, but she knew there was something special about her sex that could help save the world. She just had to figure out what.

As she stared out at the sunrise, the mist shimmering with a pinkish glow, she was unaware of Noboru watching her through the window. Unbeknownst to her, he was equally terrified at the prospect of what grew inside her stomach. He, like her, had never cared much for children, though her apathy was quite desirable in light of his complete and utter disgust at the little creatures. He thought them a nuisance, only there to cry and wail and ruin your day: he'd _never_ been like that, he resolutely told himself. He was _obviously_ different to his peers, intellectually and emotionally superior in every way. _He _had had the courtesy to refrain from pissing off every adult in the vicinity, even in his infancy: quite in contrast to his sister, who had bawled her pretty brown eyes out whenever she didn't get what she wanted, in constant need of some weak-hearted fool to come and fawn over her like her screams were a grace to the planet.

Far worse, though, was when she wasn't in a state of repulsive selfishness, when she was instead delightful and innocent, skipping through the house and singing nursery rhymes at the top of her lungs to draw attention from every room to her cherubic little voice. Spoiled brat she had been, she always got her way: he slaved for days in the library to draw plans for hare-brained innovations, in constant competition as the tenth son of a prestigious family, but his efforts were stripped to nothing more than fantasies of a child-inventor in contrast to the innocent trills of his twin.

"Why can't you be more like Aiko?" his parents asked him, lovingly stroking her yellow curls, "You're too young to be wasting your time on things like that – just enjoy being a child!"

"Your inventions are stupid, Jiro."

"You're just copying my designs, aren't you?"

"Why don't you go play with the other little kids, and stop bothering me?"

"Aiko's so normal, why aren't you?" The voices of his brothers swam through his head, surrounding the image of Aiko's perfect little smile.

Normal. What was the point in that, he'd always wondered? To be normal was to accept failure before it even presented itself. No normal man could have done what he had, regardless of the consequences of his actions. No normal man could change the world to such a degree. Granted, the world had changed to far more drastic a degree than anticipated, but that was soon to be set right by the completion of the serum: he would be worshipped as saviour of the world, creator of the cure. By this time, of course, he would have removed Cho from the picture: she who so whined and commanded attention just like little Aiko, would meet the same fate as her. Then, just like so many years ago, he would be without comparison.

He drew himself away from the window, his tall figure silhouetted against the blood red sky. His gangling legs propelled him swiftly across the floorboards and toward the long spiralling staircases, leading him steadily toward the basement. He hadn't checked on his 'monkeys' for a few days now: perhaps they were tame enough now to receive the news of their participation of the antidote's testing? Now that the antidote was on its way to completion with their realisation of XX chromosome chemical resistance, they were in need of select experimentation subjects. Regardless of the way they received him, he would enjoy the looks on their faces when he asked them where they would like to be bitten.


	23. By My Side

**Monday 3****rd**** July 2014, 10:12**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

"H…Haru…hi?"

I turned around, surprised. Grantaire was standing there, frowning up at me with great concentration.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, slightly worried, turning about to survey the floor for any loitering Henkō. I had been scouting down the floors, trying to find any absolute last supplies from any of the stores, but I had run up a blank; save for the body of a dead cat found wedged behind a dusty washing machine that I doubted any one of us would willingly eat even when we inevitably ran out of food. I didn't understand why Grantaire would have wandered down here alone, especially after what had happened to him and his mother just two weeks ago. Perhaps he was braver than I had given him credit for, but at the same time being out by himself was a sure-fire way for some kind of trouble.

"_Suis-je dire a droite?_" he whispered, more to himself than to me. It seemed to take every ounce of his brain power to be forming words in his head. "Is…correct? Haruhi?" I blinked dumbly at him, surprised further. I'd known he had been trying to learn our names, but apparently he also was trying to speak fully too. I bent down before him, our faces level, and smiled in encouragement.

"Yes," I said gently, nodding. "I'm Haruhi." His blue eyes brightened with relief, and I tried to find a way of saying 'well done' that he could understand. The last few days had been difficult, Tamaki acting as a see-saw through the language barrier: slowly filling Grantaire with Japanese, and filling us with French to try and get some mutual ground for communication. It wasn't an easy feat, considering there were only so many hours in the day and only so many of us willing to learn: the twins, and now Yasuchika too, remained irritable of Grantaire's 'pushing in' on our supplies, and were not amiably inclined to talk with him unless absolutely necessary. "_Te… tu a-apprenez… bien…_"

Well aware of my poor pronunciation, I sighed and bowed my head in embarrassment. Grantaire giggled, and it was a pure and not at all judgemental sound. Rather, it was one of the few uplifting things I'd been lucky enough to come across in this new world. He reached out a fat pink hand and stroked the top of my head, smiling hearteningly.

"_Merci_," he replied, and I looked up at him. There was something so sweet and comforting about that big smile of his, stretched across those dirt-stained cheeks, that couldn't help but make you feel that he would always appreciate my efforts even if they rarely came to an understandable end. "Tama-nii is good teaching of me," he continued, speaking slowly to try and piece together the unfamiliar tongue as well as he could. It was quite adorable how he so soon was referring to Tamaki as an older brother, something I knew the boy in question would find among the highest forms of honour.

"I'm glad you're happy," I said, and he nodded. Inwardly I was just glad he had understood at least a percentage of what I was saying. "But why are you here?"

"I want see you," the boy replied, taking my hand and smiling shyly. "Tama-nii says you are nice, and I think yes." I smiled, ruffling up his curly blonde fringe affectionately.

"_Merci_."

He beamed, clenching my hand a little tighter in his excitement that I had pronounced at least one thing correctly. Smiling, I carried on to say, "It's not safe here for you. You should go back to Tamaki."

"Why safe for you?" he asked, cocking his head to one side quizzically. I paused, surprised at his inquisitiveness: then again, I reminded myself, he was seven years old; it was in his nature. I pulled my hand from his grasp and moved it back to withdraw the katana from my belt loop. His eyes widened with wonderment as I presented the blade before him, then narrowed at the kanji script carved into its surface. "How does that spell?" He pointed at it, somewhat congealed with blood I hadn't managed to scrape clean. I looked down at it, having forgotten the message was even there.

"Faith," I answered, and he frowned. I wasn't sure if he had understood what I had said, and tried to think of a possible translation. However, all I really knew how to say were extremely basic words and phrases, and barely even those. I knelt back on my heels, slotting the sword back into its sheath and wondered how I could answer his question for him to understand. "Uh… let me just…" I sighed, mumbling under my breath and frowning. Ultimately all I could think of was to cross my fingers and point from him to me, trying my best to communicate the idea of togetherness. Grantaire seemed to understand, but then again he may just have been pretending to make me feel better for my incapacity for languages.

"The friendship make you safe?" he intoned softly, almost in awe. I looked at him, not answering immediately: he looked back, expectant but quiet. I thought about all of them upstairs, the boys who fought so passionately to protect one other. Our friendship was so strong, so whole; we really would do anything for each other. Our solidarity was what kept us safe, despite various disputes like that of the supplies, or the way we made plans, or even about the sweet little boy standing before me now. There was such an intense glow of hope in Grantaire's eyes at the prospect of what he had asked me, the childish idyll of happiness in friendship burning strong in his heart, even after so much suffering. His tiny form was resilient with courage for one so small, and it was no wonder at all why Tamaki doted on him: there was so much of him in this young boy, down to the tragedy of their parents. Of course Tamaki wanted to take care of him, such a familial instinct overwhelming him even more so than with the quirk he had written for himself in the club's dynamic. Anyone to argue against his instinct as a compassionate young dreamer, with so naïve an outlook on charity, would know their heads were in the right of it: their hearts, however, must be colder than ice.

"Yes," I whispered, my chest welling with pride and hope, "Friendship makes us safe."

"I'm glad… because now I know we will always be safe…" Grantaire's cheeks glowed a little pinker than usual, and I smiled warmly at him. He was so utterly endearing, I could hardly understand Hikaru and Kaoru's annoyance of him: it was pure selfishness, regardless of any degree of fear, to begrudge something so innocent simple because of dwindling provisions. It should motivate them to proactively secure materials for their friends, not retreat away to the corners to brood their misfortune. As I straightened up, I made a mental note to have words with them about their antisocial attitude. I was about to open my mouth to reply, but was cut short by a pair of arms throwing themselves around my knees. "_Merci_…" he mumbled, gripping me tightly.

I lowered a hand to stroke his hair, and he looked up at me.

"Why don't you go and see Tamaki?" I asked gently, and he looked somewhat reproachful. "I have things I need to do." He opened his mouth, faltered, and closed it again. He nodded. Peeling his arms away from me, he started making his way toward the rusted escalator to the floor above. I watched him go for a time, feeling just a little guilty about sending him away when in truth I had very little to do. Not now that the entire store was run dry, save for the mice that Antoinette was only good for barking at instead of catching.

I paced toward the cracked and grimy array of windows beside the gardening store, which we had raided the day before for various tools and materials to use as weapons and potential shelter when we unavoidably had to vacate the city. We didn't like to think about that for too long though, not unless we felt like having an extremely sleepless night or another onset of anxiety-induced vomiting. Kyoya had been unable to bring himself to eat for a whole day after his last experience of this, weak and shaky with a grey wash to his skin. I'd been doing my best to keep him company as much as I could, because he was in dire need of it. Whenever he was alone he became desolate and lost all concentration, casting aside every book Tamaki tried to distract him with within minutes and clutching at his head as though he heard voices shouting from within it.

His nerves clearly were shot with worry, but my smallest accomplishment was that in spending my days with him I was able to ease his mind, just a little. I had taken recently to sitting with him late at night while the others slept, talking quietly with him about whatever he wanted to keep his thoughts to some modicum of peace. As I gazed out of the musky window panes, it was odd for me to think that in the last few nights alone I had learned more about my friend than I ever had in all our time at Ouran. Never before now would he have dared confess to me his fears, his weaknesses, his crippling insecurities: always he was afraid of disappointing us, of letting anything at all happen. His whole childhood had been stigmatised against emotional weakness, leaving him so little opportunity to feel human. And now he didn't know what to do with himself, afraid that revealing his terror to the others would be a disappointment to them. It made me so sad inside to imagine not being able to tell your friends how deeply you care for and love them, all because you've been poisoned against sentiment in the name of masculinity.

Perhaps that was why it was to me alone he told these things, despite having known me for the least amount of time of all of us: because I was a female, wrought with emotion and understanding. Though this idea was out of place, for I knew him to hold both genders in equal respect and had never in his life thought with stereotypes. Instead I was certain it was because he understood me, and I – for the most part – understood him; we were intellectuals, and our relationship was based most solidly on our desire to share knowledge with one another. This was the most likely reason he deigned to share the knowledge of his feelings with anyone else. In a way I was glad to be so strongly trusted by him, but in another I was deeply saddened by what a husk his confidence at school had been to hide the build of insecurity.

For one so handsome and so well meaning, despite his choice of curt words and biting sarcasm, he really was so unsure inside. It was like there was a battle going on in his very core, that was just barely pacified when I sat by his side until he fell asleep. Some nights I became so exhausted by the lateness of my stay that I slept beside him or on the floor by his bed, unable to bring myself to walk to my own bed through the darkness. I found this made him more tolerable to the others when we first wake up, probably because of the feeling of support it gave him to know I was there. I just wished I could do more to help, to make him his confident old self again. Or, at least, as confident as he had seemed to be.

I reached out and laid my palm against the dusty glass, feeling it warm from the sun's rays upon it. The gritty surface stained my skin grey with its residue, as I subconsciously began to trace shapes in the dust like I so often did as a child with condensation from the rain. At first it was just an array of lines, abstract and random, but as I began to focus my attention on it I slowly began to turn them into a face. I'd never been much good at art, but it always had been something I had enjoyed. I'd had so little opportunity to do it with my studies piling up and up, and of course nowadays there was no cause at all for culture. The little we had left was the library, scattered with dust and debris, its pages soon to be lost to rot and mould. Some we had salvaged, like those teaching of camping techniques and catalogues of wildlife so we might know what we can eat once in need, but the rest would be whole worlds and minds taken forever by the passing of time. So much knowledge, so much culture, so much of the universe now without purpose.

I had come to the point of a face finished without a mouth. My dusty finger paused, hovering above the glass, as if uncertain of how to proceed. For some reason I was struck by the decision of whether to draw the mouth in sadness or in a smile. It seemed such a strange choice, of so little consequence and yet somehow pertinent: to draw a downward pout would be like convincing myself of my own sadness, displaying it on an exterior shell; but to make it a smile seemed a lie, masking the ache I felt inside my head from all my ceaseless worries. I stood there, surveying my drawing, frowning with indecision. Then, annoyed at the prospect of either action, I rubbed my palm hastily across the whole thing and blotted it out forever.

Through the new patch of mild cleanliness I could see the street below. The bodies of Henkō from two weeks ago were still strewn across the crumbling tarmac, blood congealed like dark tar across the decomposing figures. From what I could see, there were none alive, none ambling aimlessly down the road as there sometimes were. There was nothing but silence and stillness, save for a number of birds pecking and tearing hungrily at the flesh of the fallen creatures.

From above I could just barely make out muffled talking, and I stayed still a while so I could just listen to the sound of them. I wasn't quite sure why, but it was oddly comforting to hear their voices in natural conversation. It was maybe just the relief to know that they were surviving well enough to maintain most of their personalities that made such a simple thing so uplifting to me. Not for long, however, because the longer I stood there listening the louder the voices grew. Soon it was evident that they were arguing, and, though I could pick out no particular voices, I felt I knew why it had started: Kyoya had said two weeks ago that we had enough to eat between us to last us this long, or just over, but that had been before Grantaire. We had rationed ourselves more strictly than we would have cared to do, but ice was running extremely thin now that we grew so close to our last few days before we were forced to find greener pastures. Hence why I was now filled with so much guilt that I had been unable to find anything at all for us, even after searching the store top to bottom for hours.

I sighed, turning away from the window and making my way dejectedly toward the escalator: even if I hadn't found anything, I could at least try and sort out the argument with some much needed reason – something we possessed far less of than food. As I touched my foot to the bottom-most stair, however, I stopped. Looking back over my shoulder at the window, I was struck with a sudden thought. I hurried back over to it and used my already dirty sleeve to wipe a majority of the panes clean. Pressing my face to the warm glass, I looked again up and down the surrounding streets. Surely there was something out there, I thought to myself. There had to be. And there were no Henkō, at least not in my immediate vision: any that strays came across me I could take care of, for I was continually getting better and better at fighting. Casting a glance behind my shoulder and up to the floor above, I took barely a second to form my decision: I wasn't going to let them down, not for anything.

I hitched up the empty backpack on my shoulder and made my way toward the broken stairs leading down. I wasn't as afraid as I previously had been, because I was going with such adamant purpose that I refused to let myself give in to anxiety: this was the best way to appease their fear, particularly that of the twins, so I had to uphold my side of the katana's message: friendship makes us safe, so I would keep them safe from themselves as long as I could. The greatest threat to us was no longer the Henkō, but rather the mistrust that was beginning to grow in the face of uncertainty. Grantaire had only exacerbated this, but there was to be no question of his leaving.

Besides which I firmly believed that wherever he went so would Tamaki, fool that he was. And then what? Who would follow with him? Kyoya, his best friend? Or would Kyoya fight for him to stay? The twins would stay with the Haninozuka boys for the sake of protection, but Mitsukuni always had had a soft spot for Tamaki. I didn't know at all where I would stand, for I could not even stand to consider that we should part. I stood determinedly by Tamaki's conviction that we were no longer friends, but family. These boys were my life, and the thought of them not seeing that in each other simply because they were afraid of talking to one another anymore…?

I couldn't bear it.

These thoughts were thankfully flushed from my mind as I stepped foot outside the musky confines of the store. The early Summer breeze blew through my hair, cool and fresh against the layers of grease and dust on my skin and clothes. Despite the overall stench and sight of the decaying bodies strewn about, it was a beautiful day. The sun warmed my face as I stood there a moment, looking up and down the street, wondering which direction to try. To my right I thought I saw what could just have been a corner store, deciding it was my best bet for the time being.

Drawing the katana as a precaution, I began toward it, stepping over the bodies and scattering squawking birds as I went. As I drew closer I saw I had been correct, but in looking around the dilapidated aisles I surmised that I can't have been the first to browse its wares. Very little at all was left to be of any use, the rest creating their own ecosystems of mould across the counters. The only things of even slight helpfulness were a few racks of somewhat moth-eaten sweaters and cardigans, which I slung one after another into the bag as preparation for later months: though Autumn and Winter were far off, there was no telling at all whether or not this ordeal would end before then. Quite apart from this, it would be nice to have a change of shirt for the first time in what felt forever, saved from the suffocating smell of deodorant that had accumulated from lack of proper washing.

Determined not to be defeated so soon, I exited the store and continued down the street in search of my next find.

* * *

**Monday 3****rd**** July 2014, 12:49**

**Noboru private laboratory, Mt. Warusawa; Shizuoka**

"Well done this morning, my butterfly," Noboru said, sidling down onto the staircase beside Cho. "We're making some real progress, you and I." She looked up at him from her meagre meal, a bowl of rice and mug of cold water. Smiling meekly, she proffered the bowl to him but he shook his head. "I'm not hungry. You have it."

"Jiro, you need to eat," she said, picking up a chunk with her chopsticks and holding it up to his mouth. "Please."

"Really, I'm not – "

"You've barely been eating lately, don't think I haven't noticed… You have to keep up your strength." With a sigh he accepted the mouthful, chewing as if his jaw were working against his will. He didn't speak, but Cho took the opportunity to feed him another scoop. Then she paused, looking from the bowl in her lap to him. "I know we're running out, Jiro…" He looked at her, unable to immediately respond because of the rice in his mouth. "But you can't do this: you need to eat more than I do…"

"But what about…" His eyes fell to her stomach, and she bowed her head as if in aggravation.

"That doesn't matter to me," she said firmly, her grip clenching about the bowl, "What does matter is that you stay strong. I need you to: not just for me, but for the whole world. Everything is at stake if you don't stay healthy, so no matter what I need to make sure that you are. Will you… will you please just let me do that much for you?"

Noboru raised a hand and stroked it gently through her long black hair.

"I need you strong too," he replied softly, "I can't just let you slip slowly away from me like that. I need you here, beside me, helping me work. I only finished the serum in the first place because I had you there – "

"Don't say that," Cho said, quite unaware of the truth behind these words. "I didn't do anything at all, you know I – "

"You kept on encouraging me, even when others told me I was wrong," Noboru pressed on, taking the bowl from her lap and placing it behind them on the staircase. He shifted down onto a lower step, taking hold of her knees and gazing up into her dark grey eyes. "You were the first to ever tell me I was anything but stupid, all my life. My parents, my brothers, my… my sister…" He sighed, clenching his hold of her knees so his knuckles turned momentarily white. "Your words made me feel like I was supposed to do _something_ worthwhile: when I thought I finished the serum, I had hoped I'd finally achieved that. But now I know I was wrong, but that time is so close to us, my darling: the antidote will be that something, so now I need you more than ever to keep me on that straight and narrow."

"Jiro…"

"You said you would be my wife…" he said quietly, fixing her with an intense gaze. "While I can't give you the beautiful wedding day you deserve, I _can_ share with you the feelings of glorious triumph of having a day so life-changing that you never want it to end: but not just for us, for everyone else that's caught up in this – this nightmare! Would you _please _stay by me, _help_ me, so I can bring that day to reality?"

For a while she seemed speechless, stunned by his sudden determination.

"I… Yes, of course…" she whispered, and he leaned up to kiss her. "I'd do anything you asked of me, my love," she said as their lips broke apart.

"Thank you," the scientist replied, intending very strongly to hold her to that promise.

* * *

**Monday 3****rd**** July 2014, 15:01**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

To my relief I had managed to find a cavernous supermarket four streets away, after many disappointments. It had been eerily silent, far more so than that of our current refuge, the footsteps of both myself and the few Henkō stalking the aisles echoing off the high ceiling. While not much had been spared the initial onslaught of the past months, I was able to stuff the bag full of as much non-perishable food as I could carry – granted more items than I would have liked were well past their sell-by date, but there was very little we could afford to pass up at this point. My greatest find, however, were two battered boxes of first aid items that had somehow fallen into a freezer. One was practically untouched, save for a missing bug spray – though that was hardly a primary concern anymore – but the other sported nothing more than a wad of musky bandages, which I stuffed in my back pocket before throwing the empty box over my shoulder.

By now I was hurrying up the street toward our department store, having quite lost track of how long I had been gone. I just hoped Tamaki hadn't lost his head and somehow fallen off the escalator and cracked open his skull, or any other ridiculous injury only he was capable of befalling. As I approached the building, however, I was halted by a noise down the road to my left. Unfamiliar in the silence, it sounded like a cry: a shout, but not like the yowling bellow of a Henkō. It was definitely human, but filled with such anger and fear it was almost frightening, followed by a quick succession of metal tumbling and crashing against the ground. Gripping tightly to the handle of my sword with both hands, I stepped slowly toward the noise, fearing it may be a human that had been bitten by one of the creatures and was in great pain.

I saw a shadow wavering beneath an overturned dumpster, what could have been feet poking out from between a mess of trash cans strewn across the alley. No doubt whatever person had cried out had knocked them over. Tiptoeing closer, I was able to hear the uncomfortably familiar sound of crying: breaths quick and shallow, coughing every few seconds and mumbling incoherently in high pitched whispers. Slowly sheathing the blade at my hip, I approached the edge of the dumpster warily. When I looked round it I was met by an entirely unexpected sight.

"Kyoya…?" I breathed, barely sure of what I was seeing. He froze, hands gripping at his hair as he crouched against the wall, quivering like a rabbit in the headlights. I noticed the knuckles on his right hand were grazed open and dribbling blood down his wrist, red and glistening raw as he slowly lowered his hands from his head and looked up at me. His eyes were red, lips chapped and dry from crying.

"You… Where have you been!?" he whispered hoarsely, throwing himself forwards and throwing his arms tightly around my waist, drawing me into a crippling hug. I could feel his whole body shaking, and I dropped to my knees before him. "I thought – I thought you – " He was barely able to speak from the way he was choking on tears, "I was so scared!"

"I'm sorry, Kyoya," I hastened to say, shaken by his sudden outburst. "What happened to you?"

"I – I was – I was looking for you," he replied unsteadily, drawing himself back but maintaining a tight grasp on my waist with his trembling hands. "You didn't come back with Grantaire, like Tamaki said you would, and you – you just – "

"Breathe, Kyoya," I said gently, taking hold of his shoulders with firm hands and holding him there, letting his wide eyes focus on my face, "Just calm down."

"You didn't come back," he repeated, fingers twitching at my waist, "Not for ages. We didn't know where you were, what you were… Where have you _been_!?"

"I'm so sorry…" I told him, bowing my head and gripping tighter to his shoulders. "I heard you all arguing upstairs, and I – I wanted to help, to find more supplies, and – and so I… I…"

Kyoya didn't immediately respond, breathing heavily and continuing to shake.

"I thought one of them had got you…" he said breathlessly, voice trembling. I looked up slowly, and his dark grey eyes were glowing with tears. "I've been looking for you for hours, and I… The others are still out searching, but I'm here and… I was just so scared, Haruhi…" His hands slipped from me and he held them up to his face, watching his fingers shake. "Look at me… God, I'm pathetic – "

"You are _not_ pathetic – "

"But I am," he interrupted, balling his hands into fists and dropping them to his sides. "I'm so pathetic I can't even keep myself from collapsing at the idea of losing you…"

"Kyoya…"

"I was so scared I punched a wall, kicked and screamed, fell down and didn't even have the will to get back up," he continued, turning his eyes away from mine and staring morosely down at the ground between us. "I'm like a child…"

"Kyoya, I know how you feel," I told him, "That's why I came out by myself to look for food: I was so scared at the idea of losing any of you, that I – "

"You don't understand," the boy before me said, closing his eyes and pushing his head back against the wall. "I always try and tell you, but you – you never understand…!"

"Understand what?" I asked, "Why are you boys always like this? You're never straightforward about things, treating me like I'm so naïve as to – "

"You remember that first night at the syndicate?" he again interrupted, so harshly that I fell silent almost instantly. His eyes were boring into mine, steely and filled with such a vast mixture of emotions it was almost impossible to name them all. "When you asked the reason I was just _so _nice to you?"

"I… You said it was… because I was a benefit to the club…"

"That was a lie," he said curtly, startling me.

"What?"

"A cheap, off-the-ground lie – all because I was too afraid to tell the truth."

"And what is the truth?"

He raised his eyes to mine, seeing the genuine warmth and concern in my gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a smile.

"The truth is that I love you," he said softly, and my eyes widened in surprise. "I could never tell you before, I was always so scared – which is why I'm so pathetic… I let everything stand in my way, and I still don't know why."

"How long have you – "

"I don't know anymore," he conceded, my stomach suddenly feeling strangely empty. "But every day you make me feel so much stronger… You stop me feeling afraid, just being there near me. Not just here, but – but at school, too… No matter how my day went, it was always made better by seeing you…"

"Kyoya, I… I don't know what to say…" I said truthfully, completely at a loss for words.

"Say you'll stay with me…" he replied, and my insides lurched, "Please. You're the only one who makes me feel normal again…" I didn't say anything, and he slowly lowered his head. "I used to be someone… Liked, praised, with high ambition and ready knowledge, and now… what?" He looked up at me again, face filled with defeat. "What am I, Haruhi?"

"You're still like that to me," I said, "You _are_ someone, Kyoya. If you could see yourself as I do, then you'd know that. But I… um…"

I couldn't bring myself to say 'I don't love you'. It was a lie, and I knew it. I loved him deeply, so intensely that it hurt, but I had never before considered that love for him to be the same kind as his for me. But seeing his face, his eyes, his whole being crumpled with relief that I was unharmed – seeing this boy I thought I knew so wholly and genuinely devoted to my wellbeing, so uncharacteristically enamoured – rocked me to my core. He was weak, giddy with happiness that I was safe, but so utterly spent from the worry that I wasn't. It would be kinder to kill him than tell him I didn't feel the same, for the passion of his emotions matched my own.

Thinking it the kindest way forward, I bent my head and pressed my lips gently against his. He froze, uncertain of what was happening. Then I felt his fingers lightly touch my face, as if unsure of what to do. He was so small in that moment, so naïve and lost. It was quite opposite to the kiss Takashi had first given me: while his was strong with urgency and relief, this was quiet and unspoken, indefinite; but his touch, the gentle hold of his hands at my cheeks, detailed the yearning for that moment, that kiss, to never end. Drawing away from him was like emerging from a long, confusing dream.

He stared up at me, eyes wide as if in wonder. The innocent longing in those eyes, mingled with the fear that never quite managed to leave them, told me how desperately he truly did need me beside him for support. There was no way I could deny someone I held so dear to me something like that. The only thing stopping my conscience was the thought of my promise to Takashi. I just wondered why it was that everything bad or bewildering all had to happen at once.

There was a sudden shout in the distance, similar to Kaoru's voice. Could it be they were returning from their search? I looked round, but as I did so my stomach seemed to drop deep into a black hole. There, rooted to the spot none too far away, dark grey eyes fixed on the two of us on the ground with an entirely unreadable expression, was Takashi. His carved features were cold in the warmth of the Summer sun, shoulders set and fists clenched.

"Takashi…" I whispered, but he did not reply. Instead he turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his retreating footsteps echoing through my heart.


	24. Black or Black?

_Apologies for how short this chapter is (I'm aiming for each chapter to be around 5000 words now) but I'm in the midst of my final exams, and I'm technically meant to be writing a Shakespeare essay right now, so yeah… But I just couldn't leave well enough alone, and I really love this story, so here's a quick update for you all (minus the usual Noboru segment because I have too much of a headache right now to deal with that douchenugget)_

* * *

**Monday 3****rd**** July 2014, 15:12**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

"Takashi!" I called after him, begging him to stop. But instead his shoulders hunched, his pace quickening as my stomach continued to plummet to depths unknown.

"Was that - ?"

"That was Haruhi!" came the muffled cries of the twins from an adjacent street, and two pairs of footsteps joined Takashi's in the echo of the alleyway. I watched as they came sprinting round the corner, wide-eyed and breathless. They visibly crumpled with relief at the sight of me, Kaoru turning and cupping his mouth to shout down the main street, "Tamaki, get over here, we found her!"

"Mori-senpai, you okay?" Hikaru began to say as Takashi approached the end of the road, reaching out a hand to grasp the third year's shoulder. "You look kinda – "

Takashi said nothing as he shoved his way past them, knocking Hikaru into his brother's side. The twins exchanged affronted looks, glancing from Takashi's retreating back to me on my knees beside Kyoya's still frozen form: he seemed so shocked that I had kissed him he had entered a completely catatonic state.

"That can't be…?" Kaoru whispered, frowning at Kyoya's sprawled legs as they poked out from behind the dumpster, the rest of him obstructed from view by its massive shape. "Can it?" He looked again at Hikaru, as if questioning the reality of Kyoya to be sobbing on the ground, but before he could speak further Tamaki had come barrelling into them, Grantaire trailing at his heel as faithfully as Antoinette ever had.

"_Haaaruhiii!_" Tamaki caterwauled, surely attracting every Henkō within a hundred-mile radius with the sheer volume of it. "Where have you _been_!?" Without awaiting an answer, he lurched down the alleyway toward me and was dragging me to my feet, crushing my arms to my sides and bawling his eyes out into my shoulder with sheer grief. For once I couldn't bring myself to put up with Tamaki's inordinate grievances, knowing only too well that the explanation of my whereabouts was second to that owed to the boy storming away from me.

"Get off me – " I hissed, far more contemptuous than I had intended, wringing myself free from the emotional blonde's embrace and staggering backward. The surprise in his eyes was quickly replaced by hurt. He reached out a hand to me, opening his mouth to speak, but already I was hurrying after Takashi.

"Haruhi?" the twins started, but I pushed between them as they threatened to close the alley to me. "What's up with everyone!?" they asked, annoyed. I heard them start after me, but I quickened my step to a run. Hikaru let out a cry of aggravation, Tamaki wailing at my desertion of him. But I ignored them, refusing my mind to riddle itself with guilt from such unwelcome noise: I could only absolve my current guilt by confronting it head-on, my eyes fixed upon my solution.

Takashi continued to stride away, infuriated, silhouetted black against the sunlight. He seemed too consumed in his own maleficent thoughts to notice my feet pounding the blood-spattered road in his wake. Only when I had seized his wrist and jerked him round did he acknowledge me, grim shadows cast across his face from sheer anger. For a moment I was so unsettled by the piercing fury in his eyes that I couldn't help but tremble. Never before had I realised just how massive he was, in height and in strength. He was so overwhelmingly great in front of my small frame that I let out a sharp breath in fear and awe. My heart squirmed inside my chest at the very idea of actually being afraid of the boy I loved. Almost as punishment for making me feel something like that, I clenched my jaw and swung my arm upward.

My hand sliced across his sharp cheek like a knife, the sound resonating throughout the entire street. He looked so shocked to have been taken off guard by me that in that moment he seemed far smaller than I was, childlike in the way his eyes gaped in astonishment. The air was still and silent for a long while afterward, though in my mind all I could hear was what I wanted to shout at him clamouring to be said first. I couldn't bring myself to be overheard, however, not now that the others were so inquisitive of my actions. Instead I struggled to keep my voice a steady undertone, bristling with the rawness of my resentment toward him.

"How dare you…?" I breathed, fixing him with unyielding eyes. "How _dare_ you just walk away from me before I even have a chance to explain myself!?"

"You – "

"Shut up!" I commanded icily, refusing to be interrupted. My hands took hold of the front of his musky, dirt-stained shirt, gripping it tightly between trembling fingers that already had begun to sting from the force of their assault. "I'm not going to let you slip away from me because you're too headstrong to face a misunderstanding – "

"Misunderstanding!?" he repeated, face flushing and teeth baring aggressively. His eyes had darkened, brows furrowing to almost mask them in a frown of pure contempt. "You _kissed_ him! How can I possibly interpret that wrong!?"

"Because you're scared," I answered instantly, not afraid to give him the truth even if it did make his eyes flash fiercely. "You're scared that, because I'm trying to keep my family alive by refusing you, Kyoya's going to take me away from you. But he's not…" The tall third year shifted before me, lowering his head a little as if ashamed of himself. I only took this to mean I was entirely correct, which actually maddened me further. With a certain reluctance I let my fingers slip from their grasp of his soiled shirt and rested them flat against his solid chest. I could feel his heart pounding from within, fast and unrelenting despite the brooding expression of his face. I paused a moment, pondering my next choice of words, before I heard the muffled echo of footsteps from behind and knew the others were approaching. Bowing my head and closing my eyes tightly in apology, I whispered, "Because I'm not yours to be taken away from."

"Haruhi, wait – "

"I'm my own person, even if I did promise to love you like you say you love me," I continued, drawing myself away from him before his rising hands had the chance to take hold of me and pull me close. His touch would be toxic now, impossible to escape because I knew how easily I would give in to him. But these were the words I had to say to him, had to use to break him – it was the only way to make sure both he and Kyoya stayed safe. Jealousy was too poisonous a mind-set for either of them, but Kyoya was far too weak for me to let it encumber him. At least now I was learning not to cry anymore, because my tears would plainly give away to the third year my true mind. "And it's my decision, Takashi. _Please_ respect it."

"What you mean is that you choose him and not me," he said, expression turning sour. His whole body had begun to stiffen, eyes settling on a point just above my shoulder. The others, no doubt, and Kyoya with them. I could hear the anger rising again in his voice. "Were you lying to me when you said why we couldn't do this? Because of _him_?"

"You know I don't lie…" I answered wretchedly, shaking my head slowly in disappointment. "But if anything, you're the one who's choosing – and so far you've only been picking out enemies, and for what? Me? _Us?_" I let out a quivering sigh of unhappy laughter, feeling my face crumpling with sadness, lip trembling. "Unless you grow up and understand what I'm doing, I don't think there ever will be an 'us'. Not while you're closing your mind to the possibility that I'm maybe doing something out of complete selflessness for the people I love." His face was now ashen, white and empty as he watched me through unblinking eyes. "I really did love you, Takashi Morinozuka. But if this really is what you think of me and my promises, if you really think I would lie to you, then I… I don't think I can anymore." I was almost able to see the shine fade from his eyes as if he were newly dead. His body slackened, breaking in on itself, and he swayed before me like a feeble sheet in the breeze. It almost seemed like he had stopped breathing. I knew almost instantly that what I'd said enough, but a surge of weakness kept me from holding my tongue, "Just know one thing: I will _never _let you die while I'm still here."

* * *

**Monday 3****rd**** July 2014, 21:53**

**Abandoned department store, Tokyo**

Kyoya was already asleep, much to my relief. This was the earliest he had managed to do so for a very long time. He was motionless as he slumbered beside me in the darkness, allowing me to continue staring out at the inky sheet of sky beyond the window panes. I was vaguely aware of Mitsukuni and Yasuchika talking together, Tamaki instructing Grantaire in new phrases of Japanese, but my ears were heightened to the mournful scrape of stone against steel as Takashi's silhouette silently sharpened the knife in his grasp. Sometimes I thought I saw the dark diamonds of his eyes meet mine, making the routine of his hands momentarily threatening, but then I found myself questioning whether or not I had been imagining his gaze upon me. I didn't know why it was that I always defaulted to watching him, and I resented the fact that I still did now.

Voyeuristic almost, my eyes had an obsession with that boy: at Ouran it was curiosity, attempting to read that stoic, handsome face in the hope of maybe catching a rare smile; at the syndicate it had been to catch his eye to offer encouragement, as it had been when we had first left the safety of its wall; more often than not it was because of how deeply afraid I was that any harm may come to him if he were left alone for even a minute. As of late I'd become so used to him pulling my eyes like planets round the sun that I sometimes forgot why he looked at me with varying degrees of scorn, then remembering what I had said after he had kissed me and hastily looking away again. But now that I looked at him it was with despondency, repeated pangs of conscience compelling my eyes to turn on him once again like beacons of a lighthouse to a ship sinking beneath the waves. With today's words shot at him like cannon-fire, he truly had begun to fail his fight against the spray.

Anguish radiated like an aura from him even in the dim light of the moon, his body hunched over itself weakly as though all strength had been sapped from his lithe muscles with the single strike of my hand. He'd had not been seen by anyone until Mitsukuni forcibly dragged him up from the library, where he found his younger cousin strewn in a heap of pages ripped from their covers like the flesh torn off corpses by crows. His large hands burned with papercuts, flecks of blood smeared across his face and glistening red like his bloodshot eyes from crying. As far as I could make out from the searching look in Mitsukuni's usually carefree gaze upon me, while I chewed dryly through undercooked rice from my seat beside Kyoya, Takashi had not said a word even to him about the cause of his distress, but – both extremely perceptive and more than a little likeminded to my father's intentions of matchmaking – I was almost certain the tiny blonde had figured it out for himself. Shortly after the meal he had approached me, taking my hand and squeezing reassuringly before leading me away to a distant corner to speak privately.

"I know why you did it…" he whispered in that high, soft voice of his. I looked down at him, smiling sadly. "You're doing it because you love him - and that means everything to me, Haru-chan. Thank you…"

"I'd do anything for the people I care about, Mitsukuni," I answered, and his pink lips parted in a wide beam. His eyes glittered in the dying light of the sun, and I almost wondered if he was crying.

"It makes me so happy to hear you say my name," he mumbled, letting go of my hand and instead wrapping his small arms around me in a warm, adoring embrace. His voice trembled when he next spoke, and I realised that he was struggling not to fall into the hysterics he had been famous for back at Ouran. But these wasn't like the melodramatic tears of affection that had won the hearts of so many loli-loving ladies at the Host Club: these emotions were heartfelt and raw, as were the words to accompany them. "It makes me think you really are my little sister."

"Thank you…"

I reached down a hand and stroked the top of his golden head tenderly, smiling as he nuzzled his fat pink cheeks further into my navel. He turned up his head and looked at me, eyes bright.

"Thank _you_ for looking after Takashi," the tiny boy replied, "Even if you make him sad, sometimes that's what's best – in the end, you'll be happy together."

"How do you know that?" I asked quietly, almost sad.

"I don't," he said truthfully, starting to smile. "But if I just wish hard enough then things are sure to happen." I couldn't help but laugh, not unkindly. He was so sweet and hopeful I couldn't bear not to be cheered by him. He didn't seem to be joking, either, instead looking up at me with uncanny seriousness in his big brown eyes. "It's true, Haru-chan. Like how I wished for you and Takashi to dance together at the festival, and you did…" He withdrew his arms from around my waist, taking a shy step backward and clasping his hands together. "I'd never seen Takashi smile so much, and you'd never looked happier to be a part of us than when you were dancing with him…" He let out a thin, childish giggle. "You looked like you were dancing at your wedding – "

"Mitsukuni!" I chided him, dropping to my knees and fixing him with an imperious look. He carried on, however, eyes filled with sincerity beyond anything I'd seen in them before.

"I know Kyo-chan has liked you as long as Takashi has," he acknowledged sagely. "I also know that Kyo-chan isn't as strong as Takashi, so you're doing what you think is best for him. And I agree with you…" His expression suddenly became unhappy, brow drooping like a child who had just broken a much-loved toy. The look in his eyes was almost pitying. "I always liked Kyo-chan, and he always liked me… We got on really well even though we're so different. He'd tell me lots of things he didn't tell anyone else, but never as much as he tells you. I guess I've always known, but now I'm actually understanding it all…"

"Understanding what?" I pressed, frowning slightly. Mitsukuni shook his head, sighing sadly.

"He's never had anyone say that they love him."

There was silence between us, the boy in front of me almost too gloomy to say anything else. It was evident at a glance how deeply he too cared for his friends, and I marvelled at his ability to keep smiling so sweetly despite the heaviness of such a big heart in so small a body. In the sunset he glowed brighter than sunshine, kind and innocent and true. So compelled was I at his nature that I couldn't help but reach forward and pull him into an embrace, hiding my face in his small round shoulder: impossibly, wonderfully, he still somehow smelled of sugar.

"He really needs you, Haru-chan…" I heard him tremble, his hands shivering slightly at my back. "Without you, I'm scared something bad would have happened to him. And I don't ever want to see my friends get hurt. Not like Satoshi…"

"We won't let that happen," I said firmly, and he pulled back to face me. His pinkish lips were slightly ajar with surprise, but soon they curled into a defiant sort of smile.

"I'd rather die than let something like that happen to any of you."

"Don't think like that," I responded, shaking my head hurriedly, "If anything you should do whatever it takes to live to keep on protecting us, because that's exactly what I'll be doing."

His smile broadened, now much more hopeful.

"You're much braver than we ever tell you," he conceded shyly. "You're what keeps us all going."

"I don't know about that," I replied, getting to my feet and making to return to the others. Before I could take more than a few steps I felt one of Mitsukuni's tiny hands grasp at my wrist.

"Haru-chan, wait a sec…"

I turned my head to look at him, long shadows cast across half his face as the sun finally faded beneath the horizon. He gazed up at me imploringly, seriousness befitting a man far his senior etching his cherubic features.

"Can I just… I mean…" He faltered, wondering how best to phrase his next words. I allowed him the silence, in which he took a deep breath and continued with a little more conviction in his voice. "Can you promise me that you'll look after Takashi?"

I didn't immediately respond, surprised that this was his request. He pressed on, "Even though I understand what you're doing, Takashi needs you almost as much as Kyo-chan. So can you please promise that, until this is all over, you'll help me make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my tone anxious.

"He hides it from you really well," the blonde admitted, wringing his hands uncomfortably before him, "But I know him well enough to read through any face he puts on. He's done a lot of stupid things in his life for people he cares about, and he's gotten himself really badly hurt along the way: he was in a car accident to save Satoshi when he was really young. He almost died in the hospital, but that still wasn't enough to stop him going to any lengths to protect his loved ones."

"Takashi…" I whispered, my stomach wrenching.

"He never cared about anyone as much as he did his brother," Mitsukuni whispered, still staring up at me with those enormous brown eyes. "Not until he met you."

"Why, though? I'm not – "

"It doesn't matter why, Haru-chan," he cut across, taking my hands almost pleadingly. "Because, even if you've said or done something to push him away, he's going to love you until his heart stops beating. I don't want to see him die just to prove that to you. So, please… look after him, even if you are looking after Kyo-chan too."

"I – "

"_Please_… If you love him, you'll do this with me."

He squeezed my hands, and I could feel his fingers shaking.

"I already promised him that much," I told him gently, and his whole frame slackened with relief. A tiny smile tweaked his lip.

"Then it can be our promise too."


End file.
